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THE 



WAYS OF LIFE 



JMjjfct W%% oft Mraug Mag; 



CONTRASTING 



High Wat and the Low Wat ; the True Wat and the Fals* 

thh Upward Wat and the Downward Wat; the Wat 

or Honoe and the Wat of Dishonor. 



BY 

REV. O. S. WEAVER, 

AUTHOR 07 HOPES AND HELPS, MENTAL SCIENCE, BT» 



NEW YORK: 
SAMUEL R. WELLS, 389 BROADWAY. 



1869. 



*D 



v% 



' TWUdom's -ways are ways of pleasantness, and all Iter p&th» 
are peace." — Solomon. 



BBTIBSD, ACCORDING TO ACT OF CQ.NORE6S, IH THE VIAB 1855, BT 

FOWLERS AND WELLS, 

D.THI CLERK'S OFFICE OF THE DISTRICT COURT OF THE UNII» 
IT4TII FOB THE SOUTHERN DISTRICT OF NEW TO»I 



\ \v\V>C preface 



It is the sad conviction of every moralist that 
men are too much under the control of their earth- 
life. The gross, and not the pure, moves them 
most to action. And the question rings all the 
time in his soul, " How can the worth and beauty 
of the spirit-life be presented to them so as to win 
their love and secure their approving actions?" 
With the hope of adding a mite to the upward in- 
fluence, these lectures were written and delivered. 
That hope was in part realized upon the minds of 
those who heard them. And the earnest wish of 
many of them that they might be published in 
book-form inspired the hope that they might be 
still more useful. The ocean is made up of drops. 
So the influence that lifts the world upward is com- 
posed of the best thoughts and prayers of earnest and 
aspiring minds. The style of this little work may 
be faulty, the thoughts old and not the best, but if 
the spirit is right, its mission will be good. An 



IV PREFACE. 

abrupt and plain style sometimes bears thoughts 
quickest to the seat of judgment. Every book 
should bear to its reader the conviction that its in- 
tent was good — that it was the offspring of an 
earnest and gracious wish. If it does, it will 
leave blessings where it goes in proportion to the 
strength of that conviction. With the hope that 
such a conviction may fasten itself upon the mind 
of the reader of this little volume, we commit it 
into his hands. 

G. 8. W. 
St. Louis, Mo., January 1st, 1856. 



CONTENTS. 



lecture ©ne. 

PRINCIPLE AND PLEASURE. 

Principle and Pleasure Opposites— Principle should be the Motive, and Pleasure 
the Result— Man not Primarily made for Happiness— A Holy Life the End of 
Our Being— Eternal Life — Christ the Pattern— Pleasure shuns those who Pur- 
sue her for her Own Sake— The Motive determines the Character and Results 
of Actions — Going to Church for Pleasure — Fanny Fern on Church-going— 
Sunday Excuses— The Life of Impulse Dangerous— The Drunkard— The Lady 
of Fashion— The Novel-Reader— True Pleasure found only in Obedience to 
Principle. Page 9-18 

SLecture STtoo. 

HONESTY AND POLICY. 

The Two Grand Principles of Action— Honesty— The Martyrs of Honesty- 
Honesty Triumphant — God's Nobleman — The Three Kinds of Greatness — 
Greatness in Action— Greatness of Intellect— Greatness of Conscience— A New 
Era— Policy— The Broad "Way— Politic Honesty— The Politeness of Policy— 
nonesty and Policy in Life — Honesty and Policy in Trade, Literature, and 
Religion— A Bargain with God— Honesty Eternal, Policy Temporal 19-30 

3Lecture STfiree. 

EIGHT AND MIGHT. 

The Motive of More Consequence than the Act — God Judges the Motives — 
Right and Might— Might Childish— Scarcity of True Men— Great Babies— 
"Wealth and Position— Politics— Power— Might in the Garb of Religion — Christ 
the Model of Manliness — Might and Right in Every-Day Life — Might in the 
Presence of Death— Right and Temporal Distinction*— Right must Finally be 
Triumphant , 81-41 



VI CONTENTS. 

SLectuve JFou*. 

SHOW AND SUBSTANCE. 

Impotence of Show without Substance— Show often mistaken for Substan re- 
laying Lies— Show of Morality— Religious Pretension— Christianity Built on 
Substance— Mere Show leads to Kuin— Substance without Show— The Wind- 
Electricity— Human Gre atness— Love, Patriotism, and Eeligion— Substance 
and Show— Superficial Aspects— Character and Life— The Workman and his 
Work— True Worth and its Expression Page 42-53 

SLectttte iMbe. 

• LUCK AND PLUCK. 

Early Impressions of Luck— Luck vs. Law— Proverbs— Law, and not Luck, Gov- 
erns the World— We gain nothing by Chance— Some Seek for Luck in Far-off 
Places— Some Stay at Home for Luck— The Do-Littles— Bad Philosophy— Luck 
and Dishonesty— Pluck is the One Thing Needful— There is Luck only in Pluck 
— How Luck is Lost— Pluck and Reform— Wealth and Honors Useless unless 
Earned— Labor and Luck 54-63 

3Lecture Sfp. 

THEORY AND PRACTICE 

False Ideas of Theory and Practice — The True Origin of Theory— Theory is 
Built up from Practice— History contains the Germs of Philosophy— Theory is 
Sublimated Labor— Present Theories have been Developed from the Past^- 
Phrenology— Christianity— Practice goes before Theory— Confucius— Plato — 
Socrates and Aristotle— Many can Practice, Few Theorize— Right Practice Nat- 
ural and Easy— Truth and Falsehood in Life— Every Man should have a 
Theory of Life— Theory and Practice should go together— Spirit of the Age- 
To do Right is easy— False Ideas on this Point— Theory and Practice Com- 
pared 64-76 

lecture Seben. 

FACT AND FICTION. 

Men Influenced by both Fact and Fiction— Facts Impress us First— Wisdom of 
Providence in the Presentation of Facts to the Child's Mind— The Use of Fact* 
by Great Men— The Study of the Universe of Facts leads to Piety— Two Kinds 
of Facts — Material Facts — Spiritual Facts — Fiction — Dangerous Character of 
Fiction— Overdrawn Pictures— Figures Omitted— The Heart is Polluted First— 
Day-Dreaming — Literary Fictions — Tales not always Fictions — A Test to be Ap* 
plied to Works.of Fiction 77-90 



CONTENTS. Vll 

Hecture Effll) t. 

THE REAL AND THE IDEAL. 

Two Influences— The Real and the Ideal— Mission of Each— The Material and 
the Spiritual— Our Alliance with Materiality— Duties Growing out of this Rela- 
tion— Our Appetites God-given— We should Govern and Educate them— The 
Sensuous Nature sometimes becomes Master— Consequent Degradation— All 
Things Given for our Use— Wrong to Misuse Them— There is a Remedy for 
Every Thing— Christ and the Ideal— The Poet and the Prophet— Beauty of 
the Ideal— Aim High— The Ideal a "Witness for Immortality— Every One should 
have a Pure and High Ideal Page 91-1 04 

SLecture Nine. 

THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 

What Appears and what Is — We See the Forms, but not the Spirit of Things — 
Things and their Meaning — We Swim on the Surface — Immortality — Life and 
Power Lie in the Unseen — Things Change, Laws are Immutable, Nations De- 
cay, but the Principles of Social Organization Remain — The Moving Power of 
All Things is Unseen— Degrees of Materiality— The Mineral Kingdom— Water 
—Air— The Gases— Caloric— Chemical Affinity— Attraction— Electricity— Si- 
lence of the Unseen Forces — An Eloquent Extract — The Unseen is Enduring — 
The Invisible should Reign over the Visible 105-119 

SLectute 2Een. 

CHARACTER AND REPUTATION 

Character and Reputation Defined — The Ass in the Lion's Skin — Character and 
Reputation Compared— Men do not Read Character well— A Science of Char- 
acter—General Correspondence between Character and Reputation— Reputa- 
tion follows Character— We should not meddle with our own Reputations— Il- 
lustrations— Every Man Forms his own Character— It is not Made in a Day- 
Character is the Fruit of Culture and Discipline — Where Characters are Made 
—Washington, Franklin, Burritt^Character the Standard of Progress— Asso- 
ciations— Influence of Collective Character— Examples 120-131 

Hccturc lEleben. 

KNOWLEDGE AND CULTURE. 

An Old Adage Controverted — Newton and Galvani — A Mere Knowledge of 
Facts does not confer Power— A Higher Knowledge Necessary— Knowledge is 
not CultKie— Mental Gormandizing— We Read Much and Think Little— A Few 



rill CONTENTS. 

Ttiink for the Many— Knowledge chiefly Valuable as a Means of Culture— 
Knowledge easy of Attainment— Culture Difficult— Memory— Thinking neces- 
sary to Development— Responsibility— We are What we Make Ourselves— 
Means of Culture— Intellect and Conscience— The Mind, like the Body, is 
Developed by Exercise— Labor and Perseverance Page 132-145 



JLectuve Ctoelbe. 

THE ACTUAL AND THE POSSIBLE. 

The Acorn and the Oak— The Possible of the Potato— The Seed and the Plant- 
Newton and the Apple— The Steam Engine— Priessnitz and the Water-Cure — 
The Pilgrim Fathers— The Actual and Possible of Christianity— The Actual 
may be Known, the Possible can not be Computed— " The Child of Destiny"— 
The Possibilities of Maternity— Hereditary Descent— Education-^-The Possible 
of Childhood, Youth, and Manhood— We have too Little Faith in the Possible 
—We Fail to Reach the Attainable— No Rest short of That— Men are Un- 
conscious of their Highest Capacities— Knowledge and Culture Within the 
Beaeh of All— Eternal Progress 146-157 




THE WAYS OF LIFE. 



fertan ©tu. 



PRINCIPLE AND PLEASURE. 

Principle and Pleasure Opposites— Principle should be the Motive, and Pleasure 
the Result— Man not Primarily made for Happiness— A. Holy Life the End of 
Our Being— Eternal Life— Christ the Pattern— Pleasure shuns those who pursue 
her for her Own Sake— The Motive determines the Character and Results of 
Actions— Going to Church for Pleasure — Fanny Fem on Church-going— Sun- 
day Excuses— The Life of Impulse Dangerous— The Drunkard— The Lady 
of Fashion — The Novel-Eeader — True Pleasure found only in Obedience to 
Principle. 

I shall here treat Principle and Pleasure as opposites, 
though, in their last and highest analysis they meet and em- 
brace each other, and Principle becomes Pleasure's highest 
delight. This is the end where Principle governs. Then 
Principle becomes a motive to action, and Pleasure a result. 
The honest man is a man of Principle. He finds pleasure 
in being honest. It is the result of his principle, and is 
in harmony with it. In all cases where Principle guides 
and Pleasure follows, they are in unison ; and it may be 
laid down as a general rule, that Pleasure follows Principle 
the world over. But Principle never follows Pleasure , 
1* 



10 MAN NOT PRIMARILY MADE FOR HAPPINESS. 

and this is the distinction which I wish to make. Pleas- 
ure should always be an effect, and never a cause. Prin- 
ciple should always be a cause, and never an effect. The 
man of Principle finds Pleasure, but the man of Pleasure 
never finds Principle. 

" Wisdom's ways are pleasantness ;" they are ways of 
Principle, and this makes them pleasant. Principle is 
wisdom. To know, is not always to be wise. But to 
know and to do from the conviction of knowledge, is to be 
wise. This is Principle and its ways are " pleasant- 
ness," or pleasure. 

I said Principle should always be a cause, that is, a 
motive to action. Pleasure should never be a cause — 
never be a motive to action. It should always follow, 
never lead. We should never do any thing for the pleas- 
ure of doing it. "What!" says the worldling, "never 
do any thing for pleasure, never seek ease, amusement, 
society, the good things of life, for the pleasure of enjoy- 
ing them ?" No, never. That would make Pleasure a 
motive, and therefore evil ; for where Pleasure is a motive, 
Principle is forgotten. When Principle steps out, evil 
steps in. 

" But is not man made for happiness — to enjoy life ?" I 
hear one ask. In a secondary sense only. Primarily, 
man is made for Principle. The end of his being is to do 
right, to be holy in heart and righteous in life. He was 
not made to be happy ; that would be but a poor end for 
such a being as man. Just to be happy ! Think of it 
Were all the worlds and their beautiful garniture made 



CHRIST THE PATTERN. 11 

just to make man happy, to be the toys of this great lub- 
ber of a child ? Did his Creator make the flowers and 
birds, and all other beautiful things, just for man to play 
with — to keep him from crying, and make him laugh? 
Does God deal with him as a mother with her baby 1 
Then the universe is a nursery on a large scale, and man 
s an infant at a thousand years old, as much as at one. 

I know it is said, and great poets have written, that hap- 
piness is the chief end and aim of man's being. But to my 
mind, this is a crude conception, unworthy of an enlight- 
ened mind. In Scripture phraseology, " eternal life" is the 
end and aim of man's being. " Eternal life" is to know 
love, and serve God. To serve him, is to do right, to do 
good from pure motives ; or to express it as Christ did 
to the Pharisees, it is to love God and man with all our 
mind and strength ; or it is to be swayed, governed, inv 
bued, sustained, and strengthened by the eternal principle 
of right. 

It was for Principle, then, that man was made, to be a 
Godlike soul, to love and practice virtue, to embody with- 
in himself the spirit and life of Christ, to be perfect as 
tiis Father is perfect, by becoming his spiritual and im- 
mortal child, a perfect son of a perfect Father. In being 
this, happiness will inevitably follow, for God has joined 
happiness and obedience, Principle and Pleasure, in the 
eternal wedlock of cause and effect. But when we at- 
tempt to put Pleasure in the place of Principle, happiness 
in the place of obedience, we commit a great error, both 
in our philosophy and in our life, and one productive of un • 



12 GOING TO CHURCH FOR PLEASURE. 

told evils. To live for Pleasure is to lose lite ; to live foi 
happiness is to waste the precious energies of our souls. 
If we seek Pleasure she will shun us, for she is a coy 
creature, and will never come when she is sought. But 
if we leave her pursuit and follow Principle, she will come 
tripping after with a joyous heart, breathing around us the 
aroma of her treasured delights. If we do a thing for 
Pleasure, we miss the pleasure we seek, and waste the 
energy of soul we have used. If we do a thing from 
Principle, we get the pleasure that follows, and improve 
our souls. We may do a thing for Pleasure, and it will /" 
prove a curse to us, and do the same thing for Principle, 
and it will bless us. I may read a work of fiction for 
Pleasure, and my time will be wasted, my mind dissipated, 
my feelings corrupted, my moral sensibilities blunted. I 
may read the same work for Principle, and in all respects 
be benefited. I may go to church for Pleasure, and have 
my soul injured by the vacant gaze of my mind at every 
thing, and the slow hardening of my heart to sanctuary 
influences. I may go to church from Principle, and though 
I comprehend not a word of the service, I am benefited, 
because I have been loyal to Principle. And this fact ex- 
plains why it is that so many people go tp church with so 
little profit. They go for Pleasure, and not for Principle. 
Go into a fashionable congregation — how many are there 
from Principle 1 Some go for the pleasure of listening to 
a popular and eloquent speaker, for the pleasure of being 
borne on the wings of his vigorous imagination, tickled 
with his cleverness and wit, or moved to tears by the 



SUNDAY EXCUSES. . 13 

pathetic appeals of his magic words. Some are there to 
hear the charming music; some to see the charming 
faces ; some to show their own charming faces, or theii 
gaudy dresses, and others for the pleasure of the walk or 
ride. Momentary pleasure is the moving motive with a 
very great number. A few are there from Principle. 
Noble souls are they, blest and blessing as they go. 
Those who go for pleasure can not be expected to get any 
thing else, and they will be likely to come short in that. 
Then, if they go for pleasure, they will be quite likely to 
stay at home for pleasure, when to their pleasure-loving 
and deluded judgments the chances seem a little more 
favorable there. 

Fanny Fern has some quaintly said things on this sub- 
ject, which I may be excused for reading just here. It 
is a Sunday-morning soliloquy. " I wonder if one can't 
stay at home from church to-day ? I've a threatening of a 
headache — it's uncomfortably hot — it's a trouble to dress. 
It w*>uld be so much more comfortable to sit here in this 
cool room with closed blinds, en deshabille, than to encoun- 
ter this hot August sun, and sit down among a handful of 
people and listen, perchance, to some inanimate preacher, 
who would drawl out the hymns very much as an ignorant 
nursery maid might repeat melodies to a sleepy child. 
Now, here's a nice book to read, newspapers too ; and 
there's that seductive little rocking-chair. Oh ! I'll stay at 
home. No, I won't ; it's a bad habit. I always feel hap- 
pier if I go to church. I always come home wishing I 
was more of a saint and loss of a sinner. The little 



14 SUKDAT EXCUSES. 

trifles and vexations of every-day life dwindle whet* 
viewed from Mount Calvary. One thinks tearfully of the 
hasty word when his meek Saviour is mentioned. Ah ! 
we have need of a J. these helps to arrest the tide of 
worldliness which rushes over our spirits through the 
week. The stupidest preacher utters some truths. If 
the messenger have a stammering torvtme, I'll think more 
of him, and the Master who sent him. If there are but 
a handful of people, the more need I should not stay 
away. Yes, I'll go, and I'll go to the poor man's church, 
where the pale cheek of labor is not flushed with embar- 
rassment as the robe of plenty sweeps past ; where side 
by side as they should, kneel mistress and maid, in God's 
presence, of one clay. How soothing is that solemn 
chant ! How impressive are the words of 'Life !' How 
blessed is the influence of the Sabbath !" 

This is strictly a dialogue between Pleasure and Princi- 
ple. Pleasure was for staying at home, Principle was for 
going to church. In this instance, luckily, Principle won 
the day. Would that it were generally so. Pleasure 
wins the multitude. Trifles keep them from church in 
search of pleasure. One sleeps too long on Sunday 
morning ; one is too lazy to dress ; one is too stupid to 
muster resolution ; one would entertain a friend ; another 
would visit a friend ; one would walk in the open air and 
look at every thing, and see and think of nothing to any 
profit ; one would get up a good dinner as though it had 
religion in it ; one would do worldly business, and so on, 
through the whole round of supposed pleasure-giving en- 



SUNDAY EXCUSES. 15 

tainments. A sofa, a rocking-chair, a morning paper, a 
tete-a-tete, a warm day, a little threatening of a shower, 
the last novel — each promise more pleasure than the 
worship of God. So Principle must be content to play 
second to Pleasure, or be wholly cast out. Poor Princi- 
ple ! It has a hard chance on Sunday. It will do for 
the week in trade, but Sunday is Pleasure's day. 

Ask a loitering man on Sunday morning if he has any 
principles of religion. 

" Oh ! yes, I ' hold' so and so. Thus and so are my 
church and preacher." 

" Well, are you going to church this morning V 

" Think not ; it's too late now ; can't get ready in 
t.me ; don't feel very well ; little tiled ; was in a few 
weeks ago ; not many there now ; I get too sleepy at 
church ; rather dull music, and poor preaching too ; I 
can enjoy myself quite as well at home." 

" But how do you sustain your principles ?" 

" Why, they will sustain themselves. They are strong 
enough to stand alone." • 

Thus feel not a few. A poor day for Principle is Sun- 
day. It is more given to Pleasure. Now, the genuine 
man of principle is as true to his religious principles on 
Sunday as he is to his business principles through the 
week ; and no trifle turns him from one more than from 
be other. Religious duty is his business on Sunday, and 
he is up as early, ready as soon, as active, earnest, and 
wjde awake as on any other day. 

The influence of Principle and Pleasure can be as well 



16 THE LADY OF FASHION. 

seen on Sunday as any other day of the week, and proba 
bly better. The business world is quiet on that day, si 
that Sunday is left chiefly to Pleasure. There are three 
things which chiefly sway men — Principle, Business, and 
Pleasure. Business rules through the week, and Pleas- 
ure on Sunday, so that Principle is driven into close 
quarters at all times. This is the way of the world, 
but it is wrong. Principle should be at the bottom of 
all our actions, at. the bottom of our lives. Upon Principle 
we should do all our business, form our friendships, con- 
duct our domestic concerns, rear our children, eat our 
food, clothe our bodies, enter into our amusements, cher- 
ish our country, sustain our religion, worship our God, 
improve our minds, conduct our etiquette. Upon Prin- 
ciple we should do every thing. Not for our especial 
pleasure, but to sustain what we deem right. 

Hap-hazard living is dangerous in the extreme. An 
impulsive life is a life on a magazine of powder. A life 
of Pleasure is a bed of withering roses, under which is 
nothing but thorns and serpents. 

The drunkard exhibits one phase of a life of Pleasure. 
He drinks for the pleasure of drinking. The social glass 
is the seed of his life of Pleasure. He drinks to friend- 
ship, drinks to mirth, drinks to beauty, drinks to chivalry, 
honor, and glory, drinks to Pleasure in all her forms. 
The slow-cutting tortures that pierce him through tell 
that Pleasure is but a fading rose, which servos only to 
hide long, sharp, poisonous thorns. 

The lady of fashion exhibits another phase of a life 'if 



THE NOVEL-KEADER. 17 

Pleasure, a sacrifice of all that is beautiful and graceful in 
woman, and all that is noble in humanity, upon an altar 
where are kindled the fires of jealousy, envy, strife, ma- 
levolence, and distrust, to burn within her bosom, de 
dtructive of all righteous principle in her heart, and her 
own usefulness and peace. To seek Pleasure at the 
shrine of Fashion is as wise as to seek to strike fire on a 
rock of ice. 

The reader of fiction, and the light, trashy literature 
with which our age abounds, exhibits another phase of a 
life of Pleasure. His reading brings no peace, is pro- 
ductive of no virtue, abounds in no excellences, is devoid 
of wisdom, has little common sense, and is as useless as 
it is dissipating. Such a life is a shallow pool of small 
circumference, with sandy shore and slimy bottom. 

We all of us, doubtless, exhibit much silly living for 
Pleasure. We eat, and drink, and ride, and visit many 
places, for pleasure. But when we do it, experience 
teaches us that we fail to get the thing we seek. If we 
would get Pleasure we must get it through obedience 
The pleasure of appetite comes through obedience to the 
principle of temperance. The pleasure of dress comes 
through obedience to the principles of taste, comfort, and 
convenience. The pleasure of society comes through 
obedience to the principles of benevolence and affection 
The pleasure of business comes through obedience to the 
principles of usefulness and honesty. The pleasure of 
home comes through obedience to the principles of affec- 
tion, kindness, integrity and order. The pleasure of 



18 PLEASUJRE FOUND IN OBEDIENCE TO PRINCIPLE. 

reading comes through obedience to the principles of 
wisdom and virtue, in our choice of what we read, and 
our application of it to the cultivation of our natures and 
characters. The pleasure of religion comes through 
obedience to the principles of the great Teacher. 

Every genuine principle of morality or religion is fol 
lowed by a sweet and holy pleasure. But the Pleasure 
can only be enjoyed by obedience to the Principle. The 
man of Principle is he who does every thing because he 
thinks it is right, and is able to give a reason for his ad- 
herence to his principles ; who acts not from impulse or 
pleasure, but from duty. Such a man is a moral Gibral- 
tar, on whose head glistens the sunlight of truth, and at 
whose feet sleep the waves of peace. His soul is vir- 
tue's shrine, his life is the praise of men and joy of 
angels, and he himself is God's own dear child. \ Who 
of us will be men or women of Principle ? Will do what 
is right, whether it seems pleasant or not, and leave the 
result to God * 



$ tctnxt fatoa. 

HONESTY AND POLICY 

Yhi Two Grand Principles of Action— Honesty— The Martyrs of Hcneety— 
Honesty Triumphant— God's Nobleman— The Three Kinds of Greatness- 
Greatness in Action— Greatness of Intellect— Greatness of Conscience— A New 
Era— Policy -The Broad "Way— Politic Honesty— The Politeness of Policy- 
Honesty and Policy in Life— Honesty and Pol in Trade, Literature, and Be- 
ilgion— A Bargain with God— Honesty Eternal, Policy Temporal. 

There are two grand principles of action by which 
men govern their lives. Some choose one, some the 
other, while a few try to unite the two, but they will no* 
amalgamate. They are as distinct and separate prin- 
ciples, as are oil and water. They have no affinity for 
each other. They dwell apart — are antipodes. Put them 
together, they will not unite. Force them into the same 
sou], and one will rise to the top and the other will 
sink to the bottom. One is from beneath, the other is 
from above. Men choose them at will, as they do their 
wives. They are Honesty and Policy. 

There are men who choose Honesty as a soul-com 
panion. They live in it, and with it, and by it. They 
embody it in their actions and lives. Their words speak 
it. Their faces beam it. Their actions proclaim it. 
Their hands are true to it. Their feet tread its path. 



20 THE MARTYRS OF HONESTY. 

vThey are full of it. They love it. It is to them like i 
God. They believe it is of God. With religious awe 
they obey its behests. Not gold, or crowns, or fame 
could bribe them to leave it. They are wedded to it 
from choice. It is their first love. It makes them 
beautiful men ; yea, more, noble men, great, brave, 
righteous men. When God looks about for his jewels, 
these are the men his eye rests on, well pleased. He 
keeps his angels employed in making crowns for them, 
and they make crowns for themselves too ! Crowns of 
honesty ! To some men they seem not very beautiful 
in the dim light of earth ; but when the radiance of 
heaven is opened upon them, they will reflect it in 
gorgeous splendor. Nothing is brighter ; nothing is 
better; nothing is worth more, or more substantial. 
Honesty, peerless queen of principles ! how her smile 
enhaloes the men who love her! How ready they are 
to suffer for her, to die for her. They are the martyrs. 
See them. What a multitude ! Some at the stake ; 
some in stocks ; some in prison ; some before judges as 
criminals ; some on gibbets, and some on the cross. 
But they are all sustained. They smile on their foes. 
They have peace within. They are strong and brave in 
heart. Their souls are dauntless as the bright old sun, 
and nearly as radiant. But they are not all martyrs. 
Some of them triumph on the field of strife ; some in the 
halls of science ; some in high places of trust and honor , 
some in all the common walks of life. Wherever they 
are, they triumph Victory perches on their banner 



THK THREE KINDS OF GREATNESS. 21 

An honest man is invincible. He can not be conquered 
Come with swords and muskets ; he is brave and calm. 
Come with smiles and praises ; he is serene and unmoved 
in resistance. Come with gifts and money ; he still 
stands a Gibraltar of strength. Intimidation, flattery 
force, bribery, are alike powerless against him. 

God's nobleman is the honest man. Angels stand b) 
his side and feel proud of his company. There is great- 
ness in his soul, the greatness of principle ; such great- 
ness as lifts a man toward God ; greatness, by the side 
of which all the men of policy that ever played the strata- 
gems of war, or managed the game of tyranny, or pulled 
the wires of promotion, in senate hall or popular forum,; 
are pigmies. An honest man, be his hands hard or soft, 
be his face sun-burned or study-paled, be he street-sweep 
or president, is a great man. And his earthly position 
does not add one cubit to his greatness, nor take one 
from it. He is great in himself. He is beautiful, brave 
and strong. This is the Divine estimate of an honest 
man. As men grow toward the Divine, they approve this 
estimate. 

There are three kinds of greatness : greatness of 
action, greatness of intellect, and greatness of conscience. 
The last is the highest, the greatest. Honest men pos 
sess it. These three kinds of greatness have operated 
upon men's minds in different ages of the world accord- 
ing to their advancement. Long ago men sought to be 
great on the field of battle, on the gladiatorial stage, or 
in the knightly tournament. They wrestled and fought. 



22 GKEATNESS OF CONSCIENCE. 

It was a battle of muscles and will. Some won, some 
lost. The winners were great in actions. After that 
dawned another age ; we may call it the Baconian age. 
It opeaed with Columbus, Luther, Bacon, and Franklin. 
It brought navigation, the printing-press, science, and art, 
and ushered in the era of philosophy, thought, research, 
reason. In this age men struggled to be great by the 
might of their minds and the skill of their hands. Poets, 
sculptors, painters, philosophers, orators, statesmen, writ- 
ers, and mechanics have multiplied. They have been 
led on by the splendor of intellectual greatness. 

But there is now another age dawning (so I dare to 
prophesy), in which men will struggle for principle, for 
right, for righteousness, for truth in virtue, life, or motive 
What mean the voices that speak for right, that pro- 
claim equality, that stand for the higher law and listen to 
the inward monitor ? What mean the deep subterranean 
tones of the muffled conscience of restless Europe, 
moaning like the first low utterings of the wind-harps of 
the forest ere the storm comes on? What mean the 
breakings away from the old moorings in the bay of 
Selfishness, of so many all over Christendom, where for 
ages men have fancied their spiritual barks were safely 
anchored, ready rigged and manned to sail for the port of 
eternal peace? Have they not learned that peace is 
found only in principle, only in an honest heart and a true 
life before men and God? 

The men who feel thus are moved by greatness of 
conscience, Consc/ence has not occupied its true place 



THE BROAD WAT. 23 

in the direction of the world. But it is rising. A 
brighter day is dawning for it. Honest men are nmlti 
plying. Honest principles are in the ascendant. Men 
are learning that Honesty has a power above will and 
intellect. An honest soul in its still, calm purpose has 
no superior below God. No threat, no force can daunt 
an honest man. He is nerved with strength that steel 
can not reach, that chains can not hold, that prisons can 
not weaken. It is a cheering thought that such a class of 
men are among us. Well for the world if the class were 
larger. 

There are men, and their number is not small, who 
choose Policy to guide them. They are honest when 
they think it Policy to be honest. They smile when it 
is Policy, though they design to stab the next minute. 
They speak and act when Policy dictates, but remain 
silent and inactive when true honor would demand a 
sacrificing word and action. They are the men who go 
with the multitude. Jesus was once asked, " Are they 
few that be saved V " Enter ye in at the strait gate," 
was his reply, " for strait is the gate and narrow is the 
way that leadeth to life, and few there be that find it ; but 
wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to 
destruction, and many there be which go in thereat." 
The multitude to which he referred, that walked the 
false way, were the men of policy, the men who lacked 
principle, who acted from selfish motives, in whom the 
love of gain, emolument, power, ease, or fame was a 
ruling principle. The " few" were the honest men, tho 



24: POLITIC HONESTY. 

men who were true to conscience and to God, though 
the earth quaked and the heavens grew black. The 
" strait gate" of Jesus was the Golden Rule ; in other 
words, the law of righteous principle, the soul's integrity 
Men of Policy are honest when it is convenient arid plainly 
profitable. When Honesty costs nothing, and will pay 
well, they are honest; but when Policy will pay best, 
they give Honesty the slip at once. When they think 
Honesty is the best Policy they are most conscientiously 
honest; but when Policy will, in their judgment, serve 
them a better turn, their consciences change faces very 
quickly. Their consciences are convenient articles, 
which can be put to all sorts of uses with equal facility — 
chameleon-like things, which change with the color of the 
circumstances around them. 

They are the men who can smile and be villains still 
who whitewash the sepulcher; who make clean the 
outside; who give alms to be seen, and pray to be 
heard of men ; who are often just what they seem not 
to be. 

They are your oily men ; and sometimes your honey 
men ; and your polite men, yes, polite as Chesterfield 
himself. Judging from their appearance, you might think 
they had conceived a marvelous love for you, and were 
about ready to bestow upon you an immense fortune, or 
open to you some Elysium of blessedness, just because of 
the respect they have for you. But mark them, and you 
will find the Policy at the bottom. Your trade, your in- 
fluence, your vote, or your friendships for some worldly 



HONESTY AND POLICY IN LIFE. 25 

purpose, is the object. There is this peculiarity in such 
men — they overdo their attentions, and overstrain their 
pretensions and professions. They are everlasting cour- 
tiers, sickening to men of honest hearts. ' 

There is an inbred meanness in Policy which makes it 
contemptible. It is always concealing, covering up, keep- 
ing back something that ought to be known. It is very 
clear that the truth should not be told at all times. It 
would do no good, and might do absolute harm. But it 
should always be told when it is essential to fair dealing 
and good understanding. " The snake in the grass" is a 
snake, think about him or copy him as we may ; and it 
-vill not change his character to call him a bird or a hare. 

There is another class of men between these two who 
adopt the gray-haired adage, " Honesty is the best Policy." 
They, no doubt, think they are honest, and gravely assume 
a great deal of credit for their high-toned philosophy. 
But why are they honest? Is it because they love 
Honesty ; because it is an eternal principle of right ; be- 
cause they value right above all things else, and will cling 
to it and live by it for its own sake ? Is it because God 
is honest, and men ought to be, and must be, to be good 
and perfect men? By no means. They are honest be- 
cause they think Honesty will serve them best ; honest 
because there is Policy in it. It is the idea of the success 
of the policy that moves them. Let them be convinced that 
in one instance Honesty would not be the best Policy, and 
they would resort to some other course. It is Policy they 
pursue, and not Honesty. They are men of Policy. And 
2 



26 HONESTY AND POLICY IN LIFE. 

the adage, though intended to convey a truth, tells a false- 
hood There is no Policy in or about Honesty. It has no 
part nor lot, no fellowship nor relationship, with Policy 
Honesty is a high-toned, out-and-out love of, and reliance 
upon, principle. It is inside and out, at your face and be 
hind your back, in God's presence and in the devil's, the 
same thing, without any thoughts of policy, or stratagem, 
or success, or any thing else but its own genuine truthful- 
ness .and sincerity. In such a principle there is no trace 
of Policy. If a man is strictly honest, a thought of Policy 
will never have an origin or a lodgment in his mind. 
Policy is a stratagem, a ruse, a game, a pretense, a fiction, 
a something not strictly and necessarily true, a plan for an 
object, a temporary arrangement, the opposite of an eter- 
nal principle of right. . How, then, can there be any Policy 
in Honesty ? He who is honest from Policy is dishonest. 
Honesty is best ; but it is not the best Policy, for there is 
no Policy in it. 

Honesty is always, and everywhere, and eternally best. 
It is hard to make Honesty and Policy work together ir the 
same mind. When one is out, the other is in. Honesty 
will not stay where Policy is permitted to visit. They do 
not think or act alike ; and never can be made to agree. 
They have nothing in common. One is the prophet of 
God, the other of Baal. 

In common life we see the two principles at work. 
Honesty is opened-faced, plain-mannered, simple-hearted, 
pure-souled. Policy is curtained-faced, courtier-mannered, 
and serpent-hearted. Honesty is sound to the core ; 



HONESTY AND POLICY IN TRADE. 27 

Policy is hollow or rotten to the rind. Honesty speaks 
right out ; Policy hesitates, considers, makes polite round- 
about speeches, and expresses an equivocal indefiniteness. 
Honesty is as good at home as abroad ; Policy is most in- 
teresting among strangers. With Honesty, familiarity 
creates respect ; with Policy, it breeds contempt. In the 
market-place, Policy puts the fairest fruit on the top of the 
measure ; Honesty makes it all alike. Policy conceals 
the blemishes of the animal or article to be sold; Honesty 
presents the plain truth, the article as it is, the good and 
bad alike exposed. Honesty shows goods as they are ; 
Policy as they should be. Honesty sells for an equivalent ; 
Policy for what it can get. Honesty believes in quick 
sales and fair profits ; Policy in the sales and profits it can 
get. The word of Honesty is its bond ; the word of Policy 
is what happens to be for its best. Honesty has one price 
for all its customers ; Policy a price for each customer. 
Honesty is satisfied with a living profit ; Policy, like the 
grave, cries forever for more. Honesty makes good its 
agreements without a word of whimpering ; Policy cheats 
a little, whines a little, pleads a hard bargain, fails in time, 
uses poor material, unskillful labor, makes a bad job, and 
does every thing but the fair thing to get more than it gives. 
Honesty marks its goods ir plain English or German, as 
the case may be, so every buyer shall read the price ; 
Policy has a secret mark. Honesty will sell only at a fair 
profit ; Policy will often sell at less than cost, and throw 
in the buttons and thread at that. Honesty will visit a 
eick patient so long as is needful ; Policy so long as a bill 



28 HONESTY AND POLICY IN RELIGION. 

can be made. Honesty tells his client the true jtate of 
his case ; Policy tells him the case with reference to the 
best fees. Honesty edits and publishes the truth, though 
it pricks the consciences and rebukes the lives of half its 
subscribers ; Policy tells what will be most likely to please 
the greatest number. Honesty speaks the sins of men 
and the judgments of God, though every hearer quail ; 
Policy studies to tickle human ears and lull human souls 
to rest. 

All circles and all walks in life give audience to Honesty 
and Policy. The few are Honest ; the many are Politic. 
The Honest coin is often doubted, because the counterfeit 
is so rife. The Honest man is often questioned, because 
the man of Policy has gone before him. The Policy-doc- 
trine has wrought a universal distrust among mankind. 
No one knows whom to trust. Brothers are afraid of each 
other. Parties and sects regard each other as enemies, 
hypocrites, and evil-doers. They can not realize the power 
of Honesty in a man of different opinion. When moralists 
adopt no higher maxims than " Honesty is the best Policy," 
they can not have confidence in each other. When the 
best Honesty is but a stroke of Policy, who can trust it ? 

The same prevalence of the Policy-principle is found 
m the religious world. The religion and life of a man are 
generally near neighbors. A man's business principles 
take shape from his religious ; and sometimes religious 
opinions take shape from business habits. A real man of 
Policy in life will be one in religion. He can scarcely con- 
ceive of an honest God, much less of an honest religion 



A BARGAIN WITH GOD. 29 

" The loaves and the fishes" stand out before his mind 
whether the subject be this world or the higher. If he 
serves God he expects pay for it, and does it for the pay 
and the pay is a separate thing from the service. The ser 
vice is irksome ; the pay is pleasant. You can not con- 
vince him that the pay and the service are so nearly one 
that they can not be separated with regard to either char- 
acter or time. It is hard to make him comprehend that 
love brings its own reward, creates its own heaven ; that 
charity blesses itself ; that holiness is the medium in which 
God is always present ; that obedience is a state of mind 
in which blessedness must necessarily exist ; that this is 
God's, plan of eternal life and peace. No ; he will believe 
nothing of this ; for this is an exact ratio of reward accord- 
ing to merit, a. strictly honest plan. He must bargain with 
God and get the best of the trade. He wants a million of 
years of rest and peace for every hour's labor ; he wants 
an imperishable crown for perishable services ; he wants 
the free use of God's eternal house forever, for being his 
steward a few days on earth. Of all bargainers, a Politic 
religionist is the most exacting and avaricious. 

But some men of Policy are worse than this. They are 
religious for earthly profit ; for votes, for influence, for 
trade, for caste in society, for human confidence. No 
small number stand in this class. Could we get a peep 
into the great book where are written human characters 
and actions, we should be startled to find the names against 
which is written " Policy-service." The most real, power- 
ul, and bhssed thing that can exist in creatme-hearts is 



30 HONESTY ETERNAL, POLICY TEMPORAL. 

religion, but it is little of it that men of Policy possess. 
Religion is valuable and blessed for its own sake. It is 
the Father's richest gift to his children. Who would en- 
joy it, must practice its precepts from honest motives and 
pure hearts. Its very first precept is one of Honesty. Its 
worship, its love, its obedience, its faith must be sincere. 
He who brings not an honest heart to the shrine of reli- 
gion will find no blessing there. Honesty is an eternal 
principle in the government of God ; a great pillar in his 
magnificent " house not made with hands, eternal in the 
heavens ;" an attribute of his immortal and glorious being. 
In man it is a God-like thing, simple in its beauty, grand 
in its simplicity. " An honest man !" Great eulogium ! 
Crown of immortal worth ! Central seed of the tree of 
life, whose blossom is spiritual beauty, whose fruit is the 
soul's blessedness ! The seed has germinated ; the tree 
must grow ; humanity reap, and God must be eternally 
and universally praised for its glorious fruitage. Honesty 
must live ; Policy must die 




Vfi^UcTOcT 



ftttnxt ffcm. 

EIGHT AND MIGHT 

The Motive of more consequence than the Act — God judges the Motives — Bight 
and Mights-Might Childish— Scarcity of True Men— Great Babies— Wealth and 
Position— Politics— Power— Might in the Garb of Eeligion— Christ the Model 
of Manliness — Might and Bight in Every-day Life — Might in the Presence of 
Death — Eight and Temporal Distinctions — Bight Finally Triumphant. 

What is done, is done ; and what is to be done, will be 
done; but why done and how done, are the questions. It 
matters not so much, in a moral point of view, whether a 
thing is done, as why it is done. We read history, but 
intrinsically it is of little importance to us to know 
whether Thebes had a hundred gates or none ; whether 
Hannibal crossed the Alps, or staid in Africa ; whether 
Napoleon divorced Josephine or never married her, or 
whether Mary Queen of Scots was dethroned and im- 
prisoned, or not. As facts of history, these can do us 
neither good nor harm. But it is important for us to 
know why these things were done, because the why al- 
ways reveals a human motive, gives a reason for human 
conduct, and opens one of the paths of human thought. 
Human nature is the same in the first and last century, in 
the garden of Eden, on the plains of Waterloo, or among 
the rocks of California. Though conduct may differ, and 



32 EIGHT AND MIGHT. 

generations change, motives remain the same. The first 
and the last war, the first and the last marriage, the first 
and last throne, grew out of similar motives. So history 
s valuable only as a chronicler of the paths of human 
bought and feeling, as a daguerreotype of the human 

ind. Who reads it for this is wise ; who reads it for 
any other purpose gets a doubtful benefit. So religiously, 
the motive is the all-important matter ; for God asks not 
what is done, so much as why any thing is done. The 
motive is what gives color to action with him. In his 
great book he writes motives in capitals and actions in 
small letters ; and he writes a multitude of motives with 
no correspondent actions. They stand as the record of 
the chameleon complexions of each human soul. They 
tell its goodness and its badness, its progress up or down. 

We often judge unwisely. We approve or condemn men 
by their actions. But it so happens that many a man 
whom we condemn, God approves ; and many a one whom 
we approve, God condemns. Here below it often hap- 
pens that we have saints in prisons and devils in priestly 
robes. We often view things under a false sight, and 
pass our judgments accordingly ; but God judges from 
behind the vail, where motives reveal themselves, like 
lightnings on a cloud. 

Now, Right and Might lie in motive. Personally they 
answer the questions, Ought I? and Can I? Some men 
ask, " Ought I to do this ?" Others ask, " Can I do this V' 
It is the angel that asks, " Ought I to do this?" It is the 
devil that asks, " Can I do this ?" 



KIOriT AND MIGHT. 33 

We all have good and bad in us. The good would do 
what it ought to do ; the bad does what it can do. The 
good dwells in the kingdom of Right. ; the bad sits on the 
throne of Might. Right is a loyal subject ; Might is a 
oyal tyrant. Right is the foundation of the river of 
peace ; Might is the mother of war and its abominations 
Right is the evangel of God that proclaims the " accepta 
ble year of the Lord ;" Might is the scourge of the world 
that riots in carnage, groans, and blood. Right is the arm 
of freedom made bare and beautiful in the eyes of all the 
good in heaven and earth ; Might is the sword of power 
unsheathed in the hand of oppression. Right gains its 
victories by peace ; Might conquers only by war. Right 
strengthens its army by the increase of all its conquered ; 
Might weakens its force by every victory, as a part of its 
power must stand guard over its new-made subjects. 
Right rules by invitation ; Might by compulsion. Right 
is from above ; Might from below. Right is unselfish ; 
Might knows nothing but self. Right is for the whole ; 
Might is for one. Right is unassuming ; Might is pom- 
pous as a king. Right is instructive ; Might is dictato- 
rial. Right reasons like a philosopher, and prepares the 
ground on which it sows ; Might stalks on like madness, 
reckless of every thing but the end sought. Right is a 
lamb, cropping buds and flowers to make itself more beau- 
tiful ; Might is a tiger prowling in search of prey. Right 
is a moralist resting in principle ; Might is a worldling 
eeeking for pleasure. These are inward principles con 
tending with each other in every human soul. 
2* 



3± SCARCITY OF TKUE MEN. 

Might comes first, because it is earthly. The child's 
first resolve is one of Might. " I can and I will," he 
says. Might is born in the flesh ; Right is the child of 
conscience. Children do what they can. Men do what 
they ought, when they act from manhood. Some children 
never become men in this word ; they never " put away 
childish things." We become men in proportion as we 
" put away childish things" and adopt manly things. It 
takes something more than bone and muscle to make a 
man ; something more than form and strength. Two 
hundred pounds of bone and blood and sinew molded into 
the human form and walking about do not make a man. 
Manhood is within. It is not seen, but felt. It is soul 
doing right. Children are made up of flesh and blood, 
with soul in subjection to it. Men are made up of flesh 
and blood in subjection to soul. It is manhood for the 
soul to rule the body. It is childhood for the body to rule 
the soul. Most men are children. We have none of us 
wholly outgrown our childhood. We have not entirely 
"put away childish things." Great babies are walking 
about among us most plentifully. Full-grown men are 
scarce. Few men say, " I ought to do this, therefore I 
will do it." The most say, " I can do this, therefore I 
will." Many times every day most men do as children 
do in violation of the right. Here :is a child possessing 
and enjoying a toy. Another child wants it. The first 
question with him is, " Can I get it V If he can, he takes 
it by main strength. But if his strength is too small, he 
must put Might to work in another direction. First, he 



WEALTH AND POSITION POLITICS. 35 

tries stratagem. If this fails, he coaxes. If this don't 
answer, he disparages the toy, says it is good for nothing. 
If he does not yet get it, he seeks to buy it with less val- 
uable toys. Thus he employs Might all the way through 
to accomplish his selfish end. 

Here is a man possessing great wealth. See how he 
is surrounded by other men, eager for a norsel of his 
riches ! " Where the carrion is, there will the eagles be 
gathered together." He must hedge himself about with 
a triple wall of brass, or he will be robbed of his money 
or goods. The might of his neighbors will play tho 
chameleon, the hypocrite, the courtier, or any thing else, 
to get a few moments' admittance to his coffers. They 
will do just about as the child did, any thing to accomplish 
the end. Another man holds a high position. If he can 
keep it he may thank his stars, for a thousand other men 
are trying their Might against him. He retains his office 
by Might, and they do battle against him by Might. It is 
all a question of Might. The best wins. Victory is 
with the best player at the game. Just like children, they 
all strive for the prize. 

How is it in polities'? Every country has its party 
politics. Who plays on this stage — Right or Might 1 It 
is true Right is at hand, and tries to act a part in the grand 
drama. You see her flit like a spirit through the scene 
now and then. But she is chased by a thousand vam- 
pires. She sometimes pops in her head and tries to put 
in a word edgewise, but Might's thousand brawlers urown 
her " still, sma'l voice." Might has the poi'tical floor a 



36 MIGHT IN THE GAKB OF RELIGION. 

good share of the time, and he often cuts such figures 
before high Heaven as make angels blush. 

Might is a greedy lover of power, and in his greediness 
he gorges so much as to breed disease in his country's 
vitals. This is the reason why nations are so short 
lived, why governments are so spasmodic. All countrie 
and governments have fallen by diseases engendered by 
the reign of Might. Greece died of typhoid fever, from 
excessive luxuries. implicating her whole nervous system. 
Rome had chronic fits from the same cause. France has 
had the fever and ague for many generations. Russia is 
troubled with a rush of blood to the head. Turkey has a 
plethora, giving a dropsical tendency. Germany has the 
go it. England has similar symptoms, while our own 
co mtry is sadly bilious .from intemperance and bad air. 
Al these national diseases are engendered by the reign 
of Might over Right. They have all said, " I can, and 
so { will," not asking whether they ought, or not. 

n he political arena has always been the great field for 
tht display of Might. Power has been sought and Right 
mu 'dered to attain it. So general is this fact, that the 
pol tical and moral codes of nations are no more alike 
thi 1 Heathenism and Christianity. 

] Tor is Might thus circumscribed in its reign. It has 
uiv \ded the domain of religion. Many a man wears a 
lb la ;k coat, or a pious face, because he hopes thereby to 
ch\ rin power. The tyrauny of faith is as absolute as the 
tyi »nny of the sword. Weak, puny man, mitred as a 
tfi] giovs leader, often covets Might more than Right, and 



CHRIST THE MODEL OF MANLINESS. 37 

uses it to the detriment of human souls. The bigot 
wields the scepter of Might. Prejudice, superstiticn, in- 
tolerance, Pharisaism are the children of Might. Sec 
taries toil for victory. They are men of Might. These 
are all born of the flesh, and belong to the childhood of 
man. When manhood comes on we shall put them off 
In Christ they are neither Jew nor Gentile, bond nor free, 
white nor black, but one in the liberty, spirit, and truth of 
the gospel ; one in the great Right. We approach man- 
hood as we approach Christ. He is the divine model 
man, the embodiment of the Right. All that belongs to 
clans and sects, to bigots and Pharisees in religion, grows 
out of Might, and has no part or lot with Right. Keep out 
of the hands of a sectary. He will put the screws upon 
you in as little time as possible. He will have your faith 
on the rack ; your opinions will be thrown into the creed- 
hopper to be ground out to order, and your worship he 
will make keep time to his sectarian clock. All false 
religionists put a check on thought and curb investiga 
tion. " Stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ hath 
made you free," is the command of the gospel. It is a 
gospel of liberty. "Be fully persuaded in your own 
mind ;" it is a gospel of research and personal responsi- 
bility. " Prove all things ;" it is a gospel of trial, as by 
the fire of argument. We may know the false teachers 
then, by th's ; they wield the sword of Might over their 
associates. They put fetters on human souls that God 
hits made free. 

Might is seen sitting on his sinful throne in all thn 



3b MIGHT AND RIGHT IN E VERT-DAY LIFE. 

walks cf society. The rich wield the might of their 
wealth over the poor, and the poor watch for their oppor- 
tunity to strike back. Companies oppress individuals. 
Men in authority are often gods on a small scale. 
Tradesmen worry each other in traffic, like dogs biting 
each other for mastery. Professional men strive on the 
arena of public life for victory, which, when gained, 
shows them to be tyrants. The proud -lord it over the 
humble; the strong sit on the backs of the weak ; the 
great make the small lift them up that they may appear 
greater. The fortunate make game of the misfortunes of 
their neighbors. The rising kick the falling as they go 
down. 

It is onjand as it is in the sea : the great fish eat the 
smaller ; the smaller eat the minnows ; the minnows eat 
the pin-fish, and the pin-fish eat the animalculae, and all 
just because they can. This is Might everywhere op- 
pressing, just because it has the power. 

Now in all this wide realm of Might there is onl\ 
unmitigated meanness. To oppress just because we can, 
is rank animalism. What if my brother is weaker than 
I ? He is a man, a brother for all that. What if fortune 
has lifted me higher on her wheel than my neighbor 1 
He is my neighbor still. What if you sit on a throne 
and I on a dunghill 1 Have I not a heart to be blessed 
and a soul to be saved as well as you ? What if my skin 
is black, yours is red, our next brother's is yellow, and 
the next is white, are we not all of one blood, and does 
not the great eternal Rght claim us all as his children T 



MxGHT IN THE PRESENCE OF DEATH. 39 

Place the king and the beggar on a lone island, shorn of 
all the world has given them, and who will tell which is 
the king 1 Lay the millionaire and the day laborer on 
the bed of "death, and which is the richer? Then noth- 
ing will be valuable but Right. Here is the empire 
in that dread hour. Might hides abashed in her awful 
presence. Might is a short-lived sinner. His days are 
numbered, his doom is pronounced. Proudly as he has 
swayed his guilty scepter over men, and meanly as he 
has approached and scourged the children of earth, his 
brow must be branded. " Tried, and found wanting," 
must be written on his face. His power is held in guilt ; 
it will dissolve in weakness. He was born of the flesh; 
is only a childish weakness of which we, who call our- 
selves men, ought to be ashamed ; must die with all 
temporalities, and yield up his victims to the peaceful and 
glorious tutorship of eternal Right. Might possesses no 
intrinsic power, no inborn authority. Its force is only 
the pressure of greater gravity. All authority and all 
power lie in Right. In the presence of Right the weak 
and the strong are equal. The philosopher and the 
savage are entitled Vi the same consideration. The trap- 
pings of life count nothing, weigh nothing, in the scales 
of moral justice. Mind is mind, soul is soul, virtue is 
virtue. Right never has learned that there is any differ- 
rence in the color of men. She can never see a throne 
as such, or understand that it is any different from a 
lady's rocking-chair, or a child's hobby-horse. She does 
not know that a statesman is different from a street- 



40 EIGHT AND TEMPORAL DISTINCTIONS. 

sweep, or that a minister is entitled to any more con- 
sideration than a drayman, simply from calling. She 
looks with as sweet a smile upon a kitchen girl as upon 
" my lady" of the palace. Temporal distinctions will no 
cast a shadow in the eye of Right. She is not to blame 
for the truth is, she can not see them. The things wo 
wear, the dollars, and eagles, and farms, and houses we 
try so hard to get from each other, she sees but only as 
the playthings Which children quarrel over. Whether 
we have them or not, it is all the same to her. And she 
looks upon all the machinations of Migbt, in its struggles 
for these baubles, as fever-fits in men's minds which en- 
title them to pity, but not to respect. Might belongs to 
this world ; but Right is of heaven. She is the eternal 
Lawgiver, who hath framed the government of the 
eternal spheres, and established the statutes of the Most 
High. It was from her lips that the " Golden Rule" of 
the gospel came. She sat enthroned in the mind of the 
Divine Jesus, and laid her hand in benediction on the 
chosen twelve. It is her commission to overcome the 
armies of Might, to deliver them from the servile bondage 
of oppression, and bring them into the liberty of truth and 
justice. 

What childish freaks the lovers of Might play before 
high Heaven ! How chains clank, whips crack, tall 
forms come down to the dust, the earth grows bloody, 
and countries groan under the weight of thrones ! Right 
is charged with authority to put an end to all this. All 
authority comes from Right. Might has power, but not 



RIGHT FINALLY TRIUMPHANT 41 

authority. But its power is short-lived. It is outward 
and material. It touches not the conscience. This is 
the realm of Right. She outlives the material. Eterna 
years are hers. When her reign is established, ther 
will be no Might save the force of authority. Right m il 
be the law and the power, the strength and the glon of 
all Glory and honor and power be unto Right ! 



SHOW AND SUBSTANCE. 

Impotence of Show without Substance— Show often mistaken for Substance- 
Living Lies— Show of Morality— Religious Pretension— Christianity Built on 
Substance — Mere Show leads to Ruin— Substance without Show— The Wind- 
Electricity— Human Greatness— Love, Patriotism, and Beligion— Substance and 
Show— Superficial Aspects— Character and Life^-The Workman and his Work 
— True Worth and its Expression. 

The radical ideas represented by Show and Substance 
are very different ; yet' in the world one is often taken for 
the other. The former is well enough in its place, but it 
makes a poor substitute for the latter. Moonshine looks 
well, and makes a fine show, but when it is substituted for 
sunshine, it is found sadly deficient. It is minus nearly 
every thing substantially valuable. It will not ripen a peach, 
expand into bloom a rose, nor cause a corn-ear to grow. 
It will not stir a current of air, nor warm the land, 
nor lift a cloud above us to give the earth its morning 
shower-baths. If the earth were bathed in perpetual moon- 
shine, with no sunshine, it would lie in it like a corpse in 
its winding-sheet. It would be a dead, round world, hung 
in the sepulcher of eternal silence. Not a wave would 
rise on its sleeping oceans, not a shrub would deck its 
dead, oW mountains, not a breath would move its stagnant 



snow without substance. 43 

air; but, yet it would make a gorgeous show. Its moun- 
tain pillars, with their bare, old heads and jagged brows 
and cragged sides, standing away up in the cold, dazzling 
light, with its broad, silvery-faced seas sleeping at their 
feet, would look like the tombstones of departed ages 
standing over the dead tenants of the magnificent cemetery 
of coffined centuries. It would be a splendid show, lack- 
ing the essential substance of life. Show and Substance 
are often united, as an object and its shadow, the sun and 
its glory, the soul and body, mind and its outward actions, 
love and its face of sweetness. And on this account men 
have associated the two so closely together, as often to 
mistake the one for the other, and hence have sought for 
Show as though it were Substance ; and deceivers have put 
the former in place of the latter to cheat the word thereby. 

Show paints the hypocrite's face and wags the liar's 
tongue. To discriminate between Show and Substance, 
to determine what is Show and what is Substance, and 
what are Substance and Show, is a work of critical judg- 
ment, and one upon which the excellency, majesty, and 
strength of our life in no small degree depends. There 
is Show without Substance, there is Substance without 
Show there is Substance and Show together. 

I. Show without Substance is a word without meaning, 
a body without soul, powder without ball, lightning wjjA- 
out thunderbolt. It is dress on a doll, paint on sand. 
There is much of this in the world. We see it in respect 
to every thing considered valuable. The counterfeiter gives 
the show of gold to his base coin, and the show of va J uo 



44 SHOW WITHOUT S-'BSTANCfc. 

to his lying bank note. The thief hangs out the appear- 
ance of honesty on his face, and the liar is thunderstruck 
if any body suspects him of equivocation. The bankrupt 
carries about him the insignia of wealth. The fop puts 
on the masquerade of dignity and importance, and the poor 
belle, whose mother washes to buy her plumes, outshines 
the peeress of the court. Many a table steams with cost- 
ly viands for which the last cent was paid, and many a 
coat, sleek and black, swings on the street and in the sa- 
loon on which the tailor has a moral mortgage. Often do 
the drawing-room and parlor, the wardrobe and coach, 
speak of wealth and standing when, if they w*.re' not 
dumb deceivers, they would cry out, " It's all a lie." This 
is Show without Substance in domestic life. K is the 
grandest lie of the world, and cheats more poor people 
out of their birthright than any other one species of wick- 
ed show. All their thoughts, and labors, and money, and 
credit are spent to fabricate a gorgeous cheat to the world, 
to make themselves appear to be what they are not; when, 
if they would be honest, and labor for the true substance 
of life, they might be, in reality, what they are clownishly 
aping. They cheat their soids out of honesty, and a re- 
spectable and comfortable moral character, their bodies 
out of the substance of a good living, themselves out of 
a good name among their fellows — -yea, they cheat every 
thing but the very world they intend to cheat. That world 
sees through their gossamer show, and laughs at the fool 
ishness which seeks to conceal a want of substance. 
Nearly all the men in our country talk as though they 



LIVING LIES. 45 

were real, live democrats ; but all the way up, from the street 
sweep to the president, there is an eager, awkward aping 
of something a little aristocratic — a striving to run up the 
colors of Show a little higher than Substance will warrant. 
You may see it in the slave, the hired servant, the day- 
laborer, the trafficker, the mechanic, merchant, the profes 
sional man, the statesman, and, too frequently, in the minis 
ter of the gospel. It is a general sin, to which there are 
but few exceptions ; a great falsehood, which almost every 
man is striving to make greater. This great evil turns 
society into a grand show-room, in which the most dex- 
trous show-master wears the tallest plume. Besides the 
sinfulness of the thing, it is a great domestic bane. It 
makes the poor poorer, and the rich more avaricious. It 
causes almost every body to over-live, over-dress, over-eat, 
over-act in every thing that will make a show. It is a 
great root of selfishness, a great weight of oppression, a 
great sink of meanness, a great burden of woe, a great 
cloud of despair. In the world of thought the same am- 
bition for Show without Substance is visible. Ignorant 
men make astonishing efforts to appear wise. Unlettered 
men mouth hard words and guess at erudition, and puff 
themselves up to the bursting point with scholastic dignity. 
They try to conceal their ignorance with as many feats of 
show as a master of jugglery can perform. They show 
the little they do know, and then try to spread it over the 
whole field of human knowledge, till it becomes so thin 
and transparent that every body can see that it is all Show 
without Substance. 



46 SHOW OF MORALITY. 

Substance generally shows itself, and every attempt to 
make it appear more than it really is, makes manifest the 
hollow form of show. Ambitiously paraded crudities look 
badly. Their show excites laughter in mirthful minds, 
disgust in minds of strong honesty, and pity in those of 
benevolence. A scholastic swagger is a strong emetic to 
men of good sense. There is much of this in the world 
It is Show without Substance. 

We see not a, little of this same puff-ball pretense in 
matters of morality. There are scores of mock philan- 
thropists in every community. They talk large, swelling 
words of benevolence so continually, that one might think 
their pockets were charity-boxes, and their .hands angel 
censers to distribute alms among the poor. And then, 
what a show of honesty ! It would make one think that 
truth had embodied itself and become a sort of Christ in 
the flesh. Such men would carve integrity into statuary 
and write it in poems and speak it in orations, but are the 
last to embody it in life. If they possessed the Substance 
they would not make such effort to exhibit the Show. 
True worth is modest. It retires to the corner and shuns 
•he open center. It comes out only when pressed out by 
duty. It has a quiet manner, a low, guarded voice. 

But Show is seen first and heard loudest. In morality 
it talks most of the public good; is noisy in plans and 
theories and denunciations. It abuses the wicked, de- 
nounces the erring, despises the vile, christens the unfor- 
tunate with hard names, and completes the Pharisee by a 
careful and systematic display of its own excellences. It 



RELIGIOUS PRETENSION. 4" 

seems to be greatly interested in others, but its efforts to 
display that interest prove a profound selfishness at the 
bottom. 

Then in religion, the same melancholy exhibition of Show 
without Substance meets the careful observer at every point 
Pretension! profession! how haughtily they stride into 
the kingdom of the lowly Redeemer, and usurp the highest 
seats, and put on the robes of sanctity, and sing the hymns 
of praise, and utter aloud, to be heard of men, the prayers 
which the spirit ought to breathe in silent and childlike 
confidence into the ear of the listening and loving Father ! 
How they build high domes of worship with velvety seats 
and golden altars and censers and costly plate and baptis- 
mal fonts by the side of squalid want and ragged poverty ! 
How their mocking prayers mingle with the cry of beg- 
gary, the curse of blasphemy, the wail of pain and the 
lewd laugh of sensuality ! How mournfully their organ- 
chants of praise, bought with sordid gold, go up from the 
seats of worldliness and pride, and how reproachfully the 
tall steeples of cathedrals and synagogues and churches 
look down on the oppression and pride and selfishness 
which assemble below them, and the slavery, poverty, and 
intemperance which pass and repass their marble found- 
ations ! Oh ! shade of religion, where art thou 1 Spirit of 
the lowly Bleeder on Calvary, hast thou left this world in 
despair ? Comforter of the mourning, Dweller with the 
inful, how long shall these things be ? Religion is made 
a show-bubble. Pride is her handmaid and selfishness 
her leade- What a tawdry show they make ! A.nd who 



48 SHOW LEADS TO RUIN". 

believes the Substance is equal to the Show, the root as 
deep as the tree is high, the foundation as firm as the 
structure is imposing 1 Nowhere does Show more wicked- 
ly usurp the dominion of Substance than in the, realm of 
religion. In the world we might expect to see Show with 
out Substance. But the true religion is above the world. 
' My kingdom is not of this world," said its Founder. It 
has a world of its own. It is built on substance. But 
men have sought to make it a world of show, to carry the 
deception and Pharisaism of this world up into the Re- 
deemer's world, and palm them off there for the golden 
reality that shall be admitted to heaven. But poorly will 
Show answer for Substance at the bar of God. No coin 
but the true one passes there. No gilding will hide the 
hollowness of a false soul. No tawdry displays will avail 
with that Eye whose glance, like a sword, pierces to tbe 
heart. All is open there. All Show without Substance is 
vanity ; worse than vanity. It is sin. It is a gilded lie, 
a varnished cheat. It is proof of hollowness within, the 
sign of corruption. Yea, more ; it is itself corrupting, a 
painted temptation. It lures men away from the substance ; 
wastes their energies on a shadow ; wins their affections 
to fading follies, and gives them a disrelish for the real, 
the substantial, and enduring. Who can expect that God 
will not hide in every hollow show intended to deceive, 
a sharp two-edged sword that shall cut with disappoint- 
ment and pierce with inward, wasting want ? 

Show without Substance has drawn the red plowshare 
if rr.ir through the prospects of individuals, communities, 



ELECTRICITY. 49 

and nations. It has corrupted its millions. From the 
family to the cabinet it has sown its seeds of deception 
and reaped its harvest of lies. And still it is luring 
us all, and in ten thousand little ways we exhibit in 
Show what we have no warrant to pretend to from 
Substance. 

II. I said, there is Substance without Show. It is even 
so. In God's great house of natural industry the most effi- 
cient agents in the performance of their natural functions 
work steadily and powerfully onward, without any show. 
Among her elements, in the secret laboratory over the 
door of which is written, " No admittance" to human eye, 
are at work the busy and numerous gases, powerfully and 
rapidly evolving the solid framework of nature, as well as 
the delicate finish which garnishes and garlands her 
glorious temple. They are eternal Substance without 
Show. Coming out, we find the whole outward temple 
swept by the viewless plumes of the wind. Over every 
continent, island, and ocean she shakes her ethereal 
pinions, and whirls, dashes, plays, shrieks, and moans 
among her strong mountains, and forests, and waves, 
tossing, and tearing, and upturning, as in lawless sport or 
maddened fury, in proof of a powerful Substance without 
any Show. 

Examining a little closer, behind the wind and the ele- 
ments, we find a still more ethereal agent working, with a 
still more wonderful power, and evolving its results from 
a still deeper mystery. It seems to be the nervo-vital 
fluid of the body of Nature. It never shows itself save 
3 



50 LOVE, PATRIOTISM, A3TD RELIGION. 

when in fits of sport or moods of anger it flashes and 
rattles among the clouds for a moment, and then retires 
to its unseen caves. Here is a sublimely wonderful Sub- 

tance with no Show, when in the performance of its 

atural functions. 
The most valuable and imperishable things in nature 
have Substance without Show. It is equally so among 
men. The largest, noblest, most valuable qualities of 
manhood are not showy. And the largest and noblest 
men are alike unshowy. Conscious of possessing the 
Substance, they care little for the Show. Great worth is 
modest and retiring. The more a man has to enjoy in 
himself the less he cares to become a showman for others. 
Charity loves to accomplish its mission in secret. Ho.i 
esty is content to be . honest without heralding its own 
virtue. Love is timid in the open world ; she delights 
in the sweets of domestic retirement. Humility dwells 
in a sequestered spot, the hermit of the vale. Worship 
loves most the closet or the still grove for its altar. The 
noblest patriotism is that which honors its country with a 
dutiful life, and the best religion is that which does its 
alms and pours its prayers so far from ostentation, that 
its left hand knows not what its right does. The purest 
integrity is that which walks in duty's path for duty's own 
sake, and the most hearty goodness is that which does 
its work for the sake of goodness. All this is Substance 
without Show ; and it is the very essence of righteous- 
ness, the vitality of morality, and the life-blood of religion. 
Substance without Show is the highest form of moral life, 



CHARACTER AND LIFE. 51 

the nearest approach to the heavenly the first step fully 
and fairly in the realm of the spiritual. 

III. I have said, there is Substance and Show together 
This, too, is true. Man is a microcosm, an epitome of 
the universe ; what is true of the universe is true of him. 
He is the spiritual daguerreotype of the great outward 
world. In this outward world Substance and Show arc 
often united. This is especially true of superficial aspects. 
The sun, an opaque body, shines with a glorious show. 
The moon, a dense and dark globe of solid matter, glit- 
ters in gorgeous splendor. The stars are other suns and 
other worlds lit up with the torch of unapproachable 
magnificence. On our earth the broad sea shines with 
the reflex of the bending heavens ; the tall mountain 
shows its mingled work of rock and tree, and light and 
shade ; the prairie glows with its living gems of flowers, 
and the forest waves in matchless grace. In all these 
Substance and Show are united. But Show is always 
based on Substance ; there is no Show without Substance. 
But where Substance and Show are united, they are sim- 
ply the result of superior forces which lie behind them, 
which are Substance without Show. So in man. Our 
characters may and should be seen. Our lights should 
be set on bushels. Our wisdom should shine in our 
lives ; our love should breathe in our acts ; our prayers 
should be heard in our daily piety of deed ; our taste 
should write itself on our outward forms, chisel itself in 
our homes and public edifices. We praise the poet when 
he embodies nature in a poem. That poem is but the 



52 THE WOEKMAN AND HIS WCBK. 

outward Show of the poetic Substance within him. The 
sculpturer's statuary is the Show of the profoundest Sub- 
stance in his character. The religionist's prayer and 
song are the Show of his highest Substance of will and 
love. The mechanic's work is the outward Show of his 
inward Substance. So our dress, our houses, our equi- 
page, and style of life and manner of address, if truthful, 
are but the Show of the Substance we possess in and of 
ourselves. And so far as all these are the simple reflex 
of our real substance, they are truthful and right. Taste 
is as much a real Substance as beauty is a real Show. 
The two are the legitimate correspondents of each other ; 
they are halves of the same golden whole. And religion 
recognizes them as readily as philosophy. Religion can 
never clothe all men in drab, nor domicile them in the 
same form and style of dwelling, nor cut their garments 
after the same pattern, nor mold their manners to the 
same etiquette. Religion asks that men should be truth- 
ful, and yield their spirits to the superior law of eternal 
Substance which is without Show, and then that the fash- 
ioning which shall follow shall exhibit itself truthfully, 
humbly, and happily in the daily life. 

The sum, then, is this. Show without Substance is 
vain, foolish, and wicked. It is a species of deception 
and dishonesty, which leads others astray, and dwarfs and 
corrupts the soul that uses it. It is a species of wicked- 
ness widely practiced and wofully ruinous. Few are they 
whose garments are wholly free from its stain. Sub- 
stance without Show is that essence of goodness which 



TRUE WORTH AND ITS EXPRESSION. 53 

originates with the Divine Fountain, that root of purity, 
that fount of righteousness which is a law unto itself, the 
first and highest form of spiritual force ; such as dwelt in 
Jesus ; such as exists in the fullness of infinity in God ; 
such as some great and pure souls feel ; and such as 
makes heaven the glorious place it is. Substance and 
Show together consists in tho possession of real worth 
with its. honest expression ; of divine qualities with their 
humble but faithful exhibition — an exhibition not for the 
mere purpose of show, but for the good they may do. It 
is that form of moral life, attainable by all, useful to all, 
between the abstractly spiritual and the sensualistic mate- 
rial, which leads along the beautiful path of the Redeem- 
er's kingdom below, and is a meet preparation for the 
eternal home above. 



Sedan Jfiirt. 

LUCK AND PLUCK. 

Early Impnssions of Luck— Luck vs. Law— Proverbs— Law, and not Luck, Gor» 
ems the World— We gain nothing by Chance— Some Seek for Luck in Far-off 
Places— Some Stay at Home for Luck— The Do-Littles— Bad Philosophy— Luck 
and Dishonesty — Pluck is the One Thing Needful — There is Luck only in Pluck 
— How Luck is Lost— Pluck and Reform — Wealth and Honors Useless unless 
Earned— Labor and Luck. 

These are common words, and suggest a common sub- 
ject. . We are common men and women, and wish to take 
a common view of it. 

Since we were boys and girls we have heard of Luck. 
Our fathers and mothers talked of good luck and bad luck, 
of lucky and unlucky days. What was meant we did not 
exaetly understand, nor is it probable they did ; but the 
most vivid impression conveyed was, that things happen- 
ed so and so ; some happened well and some happened ill, 
without any particular cause ; or, in other words, certain 
things chanced to be as we wished, while certain other 
things chanced to be contrary to our desires, undirected by 
any steady and unvarying laws. 

The word Luck is suggestive of a want of law. This 
idea has passed into many common proverbs, sucli as 
these : " It is more by hit than good wit ;" " It is as well 



LAW, NOT LUCK, GOVERNS THE WORLD. 55 

to be born lucky as ricb;" "Fortune is a fickle jade;" 
"Risk notbing, win nothing;" and more of a similar im- 
port, all ignoring the grand rule of law, and resting upon 
the atheistical idea of chance. . 

Our fathers were good, religious people, and did not 
mean to foster atheism when they talked about Luck, and 
gave a half-way assent to its Godless reality. If the uni- 
verse were an infinite chaos ; if order had no throne in its 
wide realm ; if universal law were a fable of fancy ; if 
God were a Babel, or the world a Pandemonium, there 
might be such a thing as Luck. But while from the par- 
ticle to the globe, from the animalcule to the archangel 
there is not a being or a thing, a time or an event, dis- 
connected with the great government of eternal law and 
order, we can not see how such a game of chance as 
the word Luck supposes can be admitted into any corner 
of the great world. Luck ! What ite it ? A lottery ? A 
nap-hazard 1 A frolic of gnomes ? A blind-man's-bluff 
among the laws ? A ruse among the elements ? A trick 
of dame Nature ? Has any scholar defined Luck, any phi- 
losopher explained its nature, any chemist shown us its 
elements ? Is Luck that strange, nondescript unmateriality 
that does all things among men that they can not account 
for ? If so, why does not Luck make a fool speak words 
of M'isdom ; an ignoramus utter lectures on philosophy ; 
a stupid dolt write the great works of music and poetry ; 
a double-fingered dummy create the beauties of ait, or an 
untutored savage the wonders of mechanism 1 

If w*» should go into a country where the sluggard's 



56 WE GAIN NOTHING BY CHANCE, 

farm is covered with the richest grains and fruits, and 
where industry is rewarded only with weeds and brambles ; 
where the drunkard looks sleek and beautiful, and his 
home cheerful and happy, while temperance wears the 
haggard face and eats the bread of want and misery; 
where labor starves, while idleness is fed and grows fat; 
where common sense is put upon the pillory, while twad- 
dle and moonshine are raised to distinction ; where genius 
lies in the gutter, and ignorance soars to the skies ; where 
virtue is incarcerated in prison, while vice is courted and 
wooed by the sunlight, we might possibly be led to believe 
that Luck had something to do there. But where we see, 
as we everywhere do in our world, the rewards of industry 
energy, wisdom, and virtue constant as the warmth in sun- 
light or beauty in flowers, we must deny in toto the very 
existence of this good and evil essence which men have 
called Luck. 

Was it Luck that gave Girard and Astor, Rothschild 
and Gray, their vast wealth ? Was it Luck that won vic- 
tories for Washington, Wellington, and Napoleon 1 Was 
it Luck that carved Venus de Medici, that wrote the 
" iEneid," " Paradise Lost," and " Festus ?" Was it Luck 
that gave Morse his telegraph, or Fulton his steamboat, 
or Franklin the lightning for his plaything ? Is it Luck 
that gives the merchant his business, the lawyer his 
clients, the minister his hearers, the physician his pa- 
tients, the mechanic his labor, the farmer his harvest? 
Nay, verily. No man believes it. And yet many are the 
men who dream of Luck, as though, such a mysterious 



SOME STAY AT HOME FOR LUCK. "57 

spirit existed, and did sometimes humor the wh « s of 
visionary cowards and drones. 

Many are the young men who waste the best part of 
their lives in attempts to woo this coy maid into their em- 
braces. They enter into this, or that, or the other specu- 
lation, with the dreamy hope that Luck will pay them a 
smiling visit. Some go to California, or Australia, or the 
" Far West," or to the Torrid or the Frigid Zone, or some 
wondrous away-off place, with no fair prospect or hope of 
success from their own energies and exertions, but de- 
pending almost wholly on a gentle smile from capricious 
Luck. Poor fellows ! they find that Luck does not get 
so far from home. 

Some less daring and more lazy loiter about home, drawl 
around town, or loll through the country, whose only trust 
or expectation is in a shuffle of Luck in their favor. They 
know they deserve nothing, yet with an impudence hard 
as brass they will pray to Luck for a " windfall," or a 
" fat office," or a " living," and foolishly wait for an answer. 
These are the men that make your gamblers, your house 
thieves, your counterfeiters, your gentlemen loafers. 
They are not men that originally mean any harm. But 
they believe in Luck, and their trust is in Luck, and they 
are going to have it out of Luck some way. They de- 
spised meanness at first, perhaps, as much as you and I do ; 
but somebody told them of Luck, and they believed, and 
lo ! they got duped. Little by little they went over to 
meanness, waiting all the while for a shake of the hand 
from Luck. 

3* 



58 BAD PHILOSOPHY. 

Some of the believers in Luck, of more moral firmness, 
dally with all life's great duties, and so do about the same 
as nothing, and eat the bread of disappointment. They 
do a little at this business, and Luck does not smile. 
They do a little at that, still Luck keeps away. They 
do a little at something else, they hear not a foot-fall from 
Luck. And so they fritter away time and life. These 
are the do-littles. Hard-working men they are frequently. 
It is with them as though they had started to go to a place 
a thousand miles distant, leading to which there were 
many roads. They set out at full speed on one road, go 
a few miles, and get tired, and so conclude to turn back and 
try another. And so they try one road after another, 
each time returning to the starting-place. In a little 
while it is too late to get there at the appointed time, and 
so they mope along any road they happen to be on till the 
day is over. 

There is a bad philosophy in the world. Our boys are 
full of it ; our young men are its victims ; our middle- 
aged men have not outgrown it, and our old men can not 
make themselves believed on it. It is the idea that the 
good which man needs, comes, or may come, some other 
»y than by wise application and hard industry. 

besides the moral evil and intellectual stupor which 
.ome upon the men who adopt this philosophy of Luck, 
ilieir lives are embittered by constant forebodings of evil 
Clouds overshadow them ; blue spirits of evil gather 
around them ; they occasionally have strange fits of 
laughtGr, and at times enjoy a delirious happiness, whon 



LUCK AND DISHONEST Y. 59 

their natures break away from the cold load of doubt that 
is laid upon them. But they soon go back to the specu- 
lating, dreamy mood ; they know not the joy of the man 
who trusts in his own good right arm ; they know not 
the peace of him whose ambition is to earn his bread by 
the sweat of his brow ; they feel not the exultation of 
him whose life is a constant series of victories over the 
impediments which oppose his progress. The exuber- 
ance of the honest laborer's spirits is not in their hearts. 
Again, their philosophy breeds dishonesty within thern. 
They crave a good they do not earn ; they pray to Luck 
to give what does not belong to them ; their whole in- 
ward life is a constant craving wish for something to 
which they have no just claim. It is a morbid, feverish 
covetousness, which is very apt to end in the conclusion, 
" The world owes me a living, and a living I'll have," and 
so they go out to get a living as best they may. They 
fancy that every rich and honored man has got his good 
by some turn of Luck, and hence they feel that he has no 
special right to his property or his honors, and so they 
will get either from him if they can. They look upon 
the world, not as a great hive of industry, where men are 
rewarded according to their labors and merits, but as a 
grand lottery, a magnificent scheme of chance, in which 
fools and idlers have as fair a show as talent and labor. 

In my humble opinion, this philosophy of Luck is at the 
bottom of more dishonesty, wickedness, and moral cor- 
ruption than any thing else. It sows its seeds in youth- 
ful minds just at that visionary season when judgment 



60 THERE IS LUCK ONLY IN PLUCK. 

has not been ripened by experience nor imagination cor- 
rected by wisdom. And it takes more minds from the 
great school-house of useful life, and more arms from the 
great workshop of human industry, than any other one 
tiling to which my mind reverts. It is a moral palsy, 
against which every just man should arm himself. The 
cure of the evil is found in Pluck. 

It is not Luck, but Pluck, which weaves the web of 
life ; it is not Luck, but Pluck, which turns the wheel of 
Fortune. It is Pluck that amasses wealth, that crowns 
men with honors, that forges the luxuries of life. I use 
the term Pluck as synonymous with whole-hearted energy, 
genuine bravery of soul. 
**\ That man is to be pitied who is too fearful and coward- 
ly to go out and do battle for an honest living and a com- 
petence in the great field of human exertion. He is the 
man of Luck, bad luck. Poor fellow ! He lost his Luck 
when he lost his Pluck. Good pluck is good luck. Bad 
pluck is bad luck. Many a man has lost his Luck, but 
never while he had good Pluck left. Men lose their 
Luck by letting their energies eke through bad habits 
and unwise projects. YT>ne man loses his Luck in his late 
morning naps, another in his late evening hours. One 
loses his Luck in the bar-room, another in the ball-room ; 
one down by the river holding the boyish fishing-rod, an- 
other in the woods chasing down the innocent squirrel 
One loses his Luck in folly, one in fashion, one in idle- 
ness, one in high living, one in dishonesty, one in brawls, 
one in sensualism, and a great many in bad management- 



PLUCK AND REFORM. 61 

Indeed, bad management is at the bottom cf nearly all bad 
luck. It is bad management to train up a famifyyof bad 
habits, to eat out one's living and corrupt his life.' It is 
bad management to drink liquor, and eat tobacco, and 
smoke, and swear, and tattle, and visit soda-fountains, and 
cream saloons, and theaters, and brothels, and live high, 
and chase after the fashions, and fret and scold, and get 
angry, and abuse people, ana mind other people's business 
and neglect one's own. It is bad management to expose 
one's health or overtax one's powers, and get sick, and 
take drugs to get well ; to be idle or extravagant, or mean 
or dishonest. All these things tend to bring that evil 
genius which men call bad Luck. 

But notwithstanding all these species of bad manage- 
ment, if one has genuine Pluck he can reform. The man 
of energy can quit his drams, and hold his temper, and 
bridle his tongue, and direct his life by the maxims of 
common sense. Moral courage is the right arm of reform. 
True reformers are the men of Pluck. All men should 
be reformers. Life, when properly understood, is one 
great work of reform. Reform is but another word for 
improvement, progress. Progress is life's business, life's 
duty, life's end. Luck is not progress. It is getting to 
the end without the journey ; it is getting rich without 
making money ; it is getting honors without deserving 
them ; it is having good things without knowing how to 
use them. Such Luck is an evil. It is no Luck. Indeed, 
there is no Luck. Life's great good is wrought out, ay, 
wrought on, the anvil of industry. We can not cheat 



62 HONORS USELESS UNLESS EARNED. 

Providence of its rule. Life is a vineyard, and men are 
rewarded in it for what they do and deserve. Talent 
and labor gauge the pay. Fortunes are made, not won. 
Wealth and honors are not a fortune. Give them to a 
youth, and he knows not how to use them. They will 
prove his ruin. Steal money, steal a million of dollars, 
and lock it in your own coffers, and with it you steal a 
curse. You will be poorer than before. No man knows 
how, or can know how, to use stolen money well. There 
is no receipt-book or commercial regulation in the uni- 
verse by which it can be disposed of to profit. It must 
be a losing game. Wealth is not a good, money is not a 
blessing. The good lies in knowing how to use it. 
Honors are of themselves of no avail. They are not a 
good. The good is in knowing how to wear them. 
Where wealth and honors come unearned and undeserved, 
they are not a good, nor can they be. They are an evil, 
and work a terrible ruin. An edged tool in a mechanic's 
hand is a good thing; but in the hand of the unskillful 
it is a danger. A steam-engine in the hand of its master 
is a glorious machine ; but to one knows not how to use 
it, it is an instrument of death. The generous and noble 
horse, under the care of his groom, is a most useful ani- 
mal ; but the man unused to such creatures had better let 
him alone. So it is with the things men covet in life. 
They are blessings only as they are wisely used. The 
good they confer is not in themselves, but in the using. To 
use them is the thing to learn. This can be learned no way 
except by patient application in their attainment and use 



LABOR AND LOCK. 63 

The rule is, to learn how to use wealth, we must make 
it ; to learn how to wear honors, we must earn them ; to 
learn how to enjoy pleasures, we must create them. Out 
of ourselves the good comes. The fountain is within us. 
If we would drink the water, we must draw it from the 
well If we would have statuary, we must carve it ; if 
we would have fame, we must do something to secure it. 
If we would live well in life, we must do well. If we 
would conquer, we must fight. Labor is the price of suc- 
cess. He who has Pluck to labor, and labor wisely, has 
naught to fear. Men may be what they would be, and 
have what they would have if they only will. All lies in 
the resolute will. The stalwart arm and the determined 
soul will work out life's greatest good. Good is in work. 
Not in the thing made or earned is the good, so much as in 
the making and earning. He who does the most is truly 
the wealthiest man. In activity is our bliss. 

Idleness is death ; activity is life. The worker is the 
hero. Luck lies in labor. This is the end. And labor 
the fruit- of Pluck. Luck and Pluck, then, meet in labor. 
Pleasure blossoms on the tree of labor. Wisdom is its 
fruit. Thrones are built on labor. Kingdoms stand by 
its steady props. Homes are made by labor. Every 
man of Pluck will make him one, and fill it with the fruits 
of industry. In doing this he will find no time to wait 
or, or complain of, Luck. 



Tfttiut Si*. 

THEORY AND PKACTICE 

False Ideas of Theory and Practice— The True Origin of Theory— Theory ii 
Built up from Practice— History contains the Germs of Philosophy— Theory is 
Sublimated Labor — Present Theories have been Developed from the Past — 
Phrenology— Christianity— Practice goes before Theory— Confucius— Plato- 
Socrates and Aristotle— Many can Practice, Few Theorize— Kight Practice Nat- 
ural and Easy— Truth and Falsehood in Life— Every Man should have a 
Theory of Life— Theory and Practice should go together— Spirit of the Age— To 
• do Ejght is easy— False Ideas on this Point— Theory and Practice compared. 

" It is one thing to preach and another, to practice," is 
an old proverb. It expresses the idea, that Theory is 
much easier than Practice. But it is a question whether 
philosophy would be willing to concede this point. 

The proverb is old, and its origin may be easily traced. 
It was born of humble parentage ; it grew up among the 
common people ; it was the pupil's retort to the teacher 
when a hard problem was presented for his solution ; the 
subject's reply to his king when strict laws were to be en- 
forced ; the people's response to the philosopher when the 
theory of a true moral Ike was presented to them. Times 
are changing. Things are not exactly as they were. The 
difference between the high and low of men, the learned 
and unlearned, the teacher and the student, is not so great 
as it was. The two extremes of humanity are appro'icb- 



FALSE IDEAS OF THEORY AND PRACTICE. 65 

log each other ; and when, they meet the- proverb will be 
changed, and Theory will be considered harder than 
D ractice. 

When the world's teachers were few and its students 
many, when philosophers were scarce and the multi 
tude ignorant and base, that multitude looked upon philos 
ophy as something easy of attainment — looked upon the 
precepts of wisdom as costing only the opening of the 
mouth and a little pleasant use of the tongue — looked 
on sage advice as costing only a few breaths of common 
air ; and the best theories of life and practice as being the 
delightful day-dreams of ease-loving men, who lived upon 
the hard labors of the many. Science cost nothing, they 
thought. Learning was a sort of God-given vision, Which 
a lucky turn of fortune gave to some favored sons of men. 
Eloquence was a divine gift, denied the many. Genius 
was of the gods. All rare powers of mind were divine 
endowments, costing the possessor nothing. Such was 
the common view. Hence, when from the lips of eloquence, 
or the storehouse of learning, or the genius of philosophy, 
were issued the precepts of morality, the rules of correct 
living, or the religion of human duty, the common people, 
who could scarcely believe such a practice possible, ex 
claimed, by way of retort and excuse for their non-perform- 
ance, " It's one thing to preach, but quite ar other to 
practice. It is very easy for you to sit up there in your 
easy chairs and theorize, but just come down here into 
every-day life, and you will learn the difference between 
Theory and Practice." 






66 HISTORY CONTAINS THE GERMS frF PHILOSOPHY. 

The proverb ignores the true origin of Theory, the night- 
toils of genius ; and the hard, slow, weary, up-hill road 
to learning. Theory is born in hard travail ; it is a child 
of long and painful labor ; it is made in brain-sweat and 
toil ; it is beat out on the anvil of thought. Vulcan never 
hammered half so hard for his iron instruments of torture 
and profit, as the true theorist for his plan of moral life. 

Theory is the philosophy of things obtained chiefly 
from the crucible of experience, ay, and the experience 
of ages, too. Theory is built up on Practice — on acci- 
dental, spontaneous, natural practice — the practice of all 
men in all times. Men have always been doing right and 
wrong. They have strewn all through the march of hu- 
man existence the elements of the true theory. The He- 
brews, the Chinese, the multitudes of India, the Egyp- 
tians, Scandinavians, Tartars, Persians, Grecians, Romans, 
Northmen, Britons, the feudal men, and those of modern 
times, have been strewing the elements of Theory all 
through their long existences. Their histories contain 
the seeds of all moral philosophy. Who would gather up 
those seeds and plant them in the garden of thought, and 
combine, arrange, and cultivate them till they produce the 
true philosophy of life, must labor. Then, the life of all 
these nations, and all their hordes of men, is but one 
man'a life lived under little different circumstances. The 
experience of the world is all compassed in the experience 
of one full-lifed man. The material universe, multiformed 
and myriad-like as it appears, is all reducible to a few 
simple substances, probably not twenty. So human expe- 



THEORY IS SUBLIMATED LABOB. 67 

rience, varied and million-fold as it appears, spread out on 
the wide map of the past, is reducible to a single life. To 
study oneself is to read the book of the race. To reduce 
the lives of mankind to a single unity, and to extract from 
that unity the essence of the whole ; to obtain therefrom a 
simple formula that will solve the moral problems of hu- 
manity, is not the task of a moment, nor of an idle mind. 
It is not a small labor, simple as may appear the result. It 
is a great work of reason. To study oneself in connection 
with the race ; to systematize and generalize the facts of 
all history ; to compare government with government, ac- 
tion with action, nation with nation, code with code, 
principle with principle, and from the great chaotic whole 
to draw out one perfect, simple, sublime theory of right, 
and have that theory accord with one's own-life experience, 
is no small task. To go into the grand Pandora's box of 
the world and put it all in order, is more than ease -loving 
minds like to do. Theory is indeed sublimated labor. It 
is not the labor of one man, but of thousands. The best 
minds of all ages have been gathering the facts and evol- 
ving the principles upon which every correct theory of 
moral life is established. Each age of philosophers has 
taken the work of the last where they left it. Thinkers 
have succeeded each other in generations. Learning has 
had its successive schools. Thought has traveled from 
mind to mind. The true theory of moral life is the work 
of nearly six thousand years of humaji progress, and of mil- 
lions of years of individual thinkers. Our age has not 
risen up of itself. It has grown out of the past. It is the 



68 PRACTICE GOES BEFORE THEORY. 

last step in the world's progress. And its correct theoi 
are not the growth of a day in the world's calendar, but of 
all its days. Phrenology is a theory of the last ages ; bu 
it has been growing through all time. Its seed was plant 
ed in Eden. It did not bear fruit till the later ages pour 
ed upon it their ripening sunlight. The theory of the 
material universe which philosophy now receives, is the 
growth of the ages. The theory of electrical agency is 
apparently of this age ; but it took all past periods and 
powers to perfect minds capable of its development. The 
theory of republicanism, which we deem just and. right, 
is modern in its development, but world-old in its 
growth. The theory of morality and religion spread 
out in the Gospel is not even yet comprehended but by a 
few of the highest minds of earth. Many have practiced 
very near to it ; but few have risen to a clear conception 
of the sublime theory itself. 

And it will be ages before Christianity as a theory will 
be comprehended by the masses of mankind. They are 
approaching that sublime period of attainment ; but they 
are far below it yet. Its Practice must be greatly improv- 
ed before its Theory can be understood. No man can 
understand Christianity till he practices it. Its very 
theory is so interwoven with personal experience, and so 
ingrained with spirituality, that a practice of its precepts 
and an experience of its spirit are necessary to its intel- 
ectual comprehension. 

Practice goes before Theory, just as fact goes before 
reasoning. Experience is the mother of Theory, and rea- 






MANY CAN PRACTICE, FEW THEORIZE. 69 

ecn. is ts father. Theory is the logical deduction of ex- 
perience. It ripens out of Practice. Men could never 
have comprehended republicanism till they had begun to 
put it in practice. 

It takes a multitude to Practice what one puts into 
Theory, and perhaps of all the multitude, that one is the 
only one that could deduce a correct Theory from that 
Practice. Confucius was the theorist of his country, and 
probably the only one of its multitudes who was equal 
to the theories he advanced. He was the concentrated 
power of his nation. Was his Theory easier than its 
Practice ? Thousands could practice it ; but one alone 
could evolve it. Plato was the sun of Grecian philos- 
ophy. He alone, perhaps, of all Greek minds, was equal 
to what he developed. Multitudes could practice it with 
an effort equal to that which he used in its development. 
Which was the easier, the Theory or the Practice 1 
Socrates and Aristotle were theorists. Who in their age 
have originated higher conceptions of moral life 1 Many 
might have practiced them, with far less mental power 
than was necessary to conceive them. Which, then, was 
the easier 1 Take the moral philosophers of our day, who 
give the world its true theories of life ; are their theories 
more difficult to practice than to form? 

Many can practice them, few can form them. This is 
said of true theories, not false. Every crazy brain can 
produce absurd and ridiculous theories, as easy as many 
men can produce a rickety and wicked practice. Tha 
proverb which says, It is easier to preach than to practice, 



70 EIGHT PRACTICE NATURAL AND EAST. 

means to preach right and practice right. It has nothing 
to do with false Theory or Practice. The false may be 
easily obtained, but it is dear in the end. Error is always 
in the market, and sold cheaply, but always at a poor 
bargain. It wears badly, and looks worse. False prac 
tice is plenty enough, and can be had on easy terms, bu 
is terrible in its results ; it ends most horribly. This 
discussion is on true Theory and right Practice. 

We have said that Practice goes before Theory. This 
is true. Right practice is spontaneous. Men naturally 
love the right in practice. A right-doer is honored in all 
countries. The gods of the ancients were supposed to 
be right-doers, and men worshiped them spontaneously 
•Worship is natural. It is the embodied right that men 
worship, not wrong. The worst of men do reverence to 
virtue. All ages have bowed to goodness. The ideas 
of virtue have differed ; but to virtue, as it has been un- 
derstood, men have paid their best respects. The human 
heart is virtue's shrine. That heart loves the good when 
't acts naturally and freely. The child-heart is the best 
type of the natural man. That heart utters truth, and acts 
without art. It is simple, outspoken, spontaneous ; it 
speaks the truth naturally ; it has to learn to lie. De- 
ception and fraud are the result of long practice and hard 
tutorship. We all have to study to deceive. We can be 
true naturally ; we have to serve an apprenticeship to bo 
false. 

This spontaneity of good in the practice of men has 
furnished the facts for all true moral theory. Theory is 






MEN SHOULD HAVE A THEORY OF LIFE. 71 

a web woven out of the threads of fact ; these threads 
are the lives of men. Philosophy has wound then up 
from the whirling spindle of life, reeled them into skeins 
warped and put them into the loom of reason, and woven 
hem into the webs of Theory. 

There is much that is true and much that is false in 
every man's life. The thread of truth must be separated 
from the entanglements of falsehood. This is the work 
of philosophy. Out of all men's lives something may be 
got to form a true theory of moral living. This theory is 
vastly important. If there were no evil, and could be 
n6ne, Theory would not be so especially needed. Spon- 
taneous action would always be right ; life would always 
be true. But as the Avorld is, Theory is needed as a 
guide through the perplexing mazes of temptation. 

Every man should have a theory of life, formed in med- 
itation and prayer, either by himself or by another. He 
has been so educated into much that is false, that unless 
he does lay down some fundamental principles, and build 
on them the structure of a moral theory, he will hardly 
be able to withstand the storms of life. To form his 
theory, he must go into his own heart as it was in its inno- 
cent days, as it is in its best moods, and see what he finds 
there. He need not seek for a new theory ; an old one 
may be true. To understand a truthful one, he must study 
— study his heart, men, the world, history, providence 
evelation, progress, and whatever enters into the mora 
ife of man. The fundamental principles of the true 
irgory are evidently in Christ's teachings. But these 



72 THEORY AND PRACTICE SHOULD GO TOGETHER. 

must be understood and applied. In this work, man's 
intellectual nature will be developed. Reason is the pio- 
neer of life. To theorize correctly is the highest work 
of reason; to theorize rightly on moral and religious- 
subjects is the sanctification of reason. Men do not rea- 
son enough on ethics and religioa ; and this is the reason 
why it is so hard to practice as they know they ought 
Practice is the fact with which reason builds Theory 
Then Theory in turn guides Practice in the way of right. 
They are mutual helpers. To theorize well is to prepare 
for a noble practice. The rule is, that Theory and Prac- 
tice are a united pair. They go up and down the earth 
together ; they love each other, and seek to dwell together. 
This is the rule ; it has exceptions. Some men have 
good theories and bad practice ; but these are anomalies 
— monsters. To violate one's own theory, formed in the 
solemn hour of meditation, is a high-handed outrage. 
There are some who adopt good theories of other's form- 
ing, with little reflection and no consecration of thought, 
and then violate them, simply because they have never 
realized them, never sounded to the depth of their princi- 
ples. Let men realize the true theory of moral life and 
adopt it as their own, and it will sanctify their lives. To 
meditate on business, science, mechanism, politics, and 
form theories on them, will indeed develop reason and 
empower thought ; but to meditate on moral life, and form 
a theory for its direction, not only does as much, but it 
strengthens the moral sense, and prepares the man to em* 
body his theory in life. 



8PIRIT OF THE AGE. 73 

The great evil of this age is the dearth of sanctified 
thought. The intellect is not quickened by the moral 
sense. Reason is educated unmoralized. Physical 
science and life are the studies. Mechanism, trade, and 
politics have captivated the world. Moral philosophy is 
secondary. Our schools serve the intellect, and not the 
whole man; our graduates are educated intellects, not 
educated men ; our professional men and statesmen are 
great intellects, not great men ; our education often 
dwarfs the man while it makes the intellect gigantic. 
The intellect is only a part of the man. To develop the 
man is to magnify all his parts. 

" 'Tis education forms the common mind." 

So the life of the age is more intellectual than moral ; 
more material than spiritual ; more sensual and worldly 
than religious. Here is the bottom of the evil. Let 
thought be moralized ; let intellect be baptized in religion ; 
let moral philosophy be the grand, captivating study, and 
Theory will quicken life, and Practice be in harmony with 
it. At present men love to think better than pray, simply 
because they are more accustomed to it. They are edu- 
cated to think, aud not to pray. The moral man is as 
easily educated as the intellectual. It naturally loves 
the right ; and if that love be generously educated, it will 
pursue the right. When men are thus educated they will 
study for the'true theory of moral life. Theory then will 
be noble, grand, powerful, and Practice will be easy and 
right. 

4 






74 10 DO EIGHT IS EASST. .' 

About Practice men have a false impression. They 
seem to think it easier to do wrong than right. They are 
ever croaking about the difficulties of a right practice. 
This is a mistake. A good practice is not so exceedingly 
hard. Any man can tell a truth easier than a lie ; can do 
a good deed easier than a bad one ; can be honest easier 
than dishonest. The natural inclination is to do right, 
and it is easy to do right. It is not an irksome task, as 
some maintain — : a sacrifice of all pleasure, a hard, doleful 
crucifixion of the natural man, to do right; far from it. 
Right lies in the straightforward path of life ; error is in 
the byways and behind the hedges. To do right is both 
easy and pleasant. Rectitude smiles Upon her followers 
and pays them well for their service. There is glory 
in the right, and every body knows it. To live honor- 
ably is to get the world's esteem ; men know this. Why 
then do they not live honorably ? That old theory, That 
it is hard to do right, has frightened them from an attempt 
to follow the true practice. 

Many a man has given up in despair, just because he 
has heard the delusive tale that it is next to impossible to 
do right. Men are but children of a larger growth, and 
are just as easily discouraged. The common idea is, that 
geniuses only can be learned and useful men, and natural- 
born saints only can do right The multitude are given 
over to ignorance and Satan. False idea, and wicked, 
too. If I wanted to ruin a child, I would teach him that 
moral righteousness is an almost impossible thing. Th<* 
truth is, every body can be useful and good. The way of 



THEORY AND PRACTICE COMPARED. 73 

right is not barricaded ; it is the highway opened by 
God for his children to walk in. To practice the right 
is not to meet enemies at every point and wage a constant 
war against unseen powers ; the war is in the practice of 
wrong. Enemies gather around the wicked ; swords 
hang over the evil-doer. The just have nothing to fear 
" Wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness, and all hei 
paths are peace f " The way of the transgressor is hard.' 
It is wise to practice the right ; it is easy ; it is pleasant. 
Discourage not him who would practice well ; clip not 
the wings of the aspirant for a good life. It is wicked to 
put impediments in the way of him whose heart pants 
for goodness. See that young man : his soul is eager to 
practice righteousness ; but a false teacher tells him that 
a thousand difficulties attend such a course, that the Theory 
of right is pleasant and easy, but the Practice is a Hercu- 
lean task which few, if any, can perform. How his coun- 
tenance lowers, his brow darkens ; the light within him 
fades, and he goes to the practice of evil. It is true, ed- 
ucated as we are, there are difficulties attending the prac- 
tice of right ; but they are chiefly occasioned by false and 
early formed habits. Effort and self-denial are needed, 
but the recompense how great ! 

The sum is this. Theory is the reason of things, the 
plan of life based on facts which are the spontaneous 
practice of natural unperverted hearts ; is difficult of 
attainment ; is the grand problem of moral living ; the 
concise statement of the formula of practice, and should 
be sought with unwearied assiduity by all. Practice 



76 THEORY AND PRACTICE COMPARED. 

is that theory in actual life ; is easily wrouglu when 
the heart is stout and the will is resolute ; is that moral 
life which all honor, the good love, and which all may 
attain ; is full of pleasantness and high reward. Prac- 
tice is Theory in action. The few theorize ; the many 
ractice. Theory is the lesson ; Practice is the school 
Theory teaches ; Practice reads. Theory is science 
Practice is life. Theory commands ; Practice performs. 
Theory is the general ; Practice fights the battles, and 
wins the victory. They belong together, are halves' of a 
golden whole; neither could live without the other 
They are the rule and the work in the mathematics of 
life : let the rule be learned ; let the work be performed. 



Sectary Ssiun. 

FACT AND FICTION 

Hen Inflaeuced by both Fact and Fiction — Facts Impress us First — Wisdom of 
Providence in the Presentation of Facts to the Child's Mind — The Use of Facts 
by Great Men— The Study of the Universe of Facts leads to Piety— Two Kiudi 
of Facts — Material Facts— Spiritual Facta— Fiction— Dangerous Character of 
Fiction — Overdrawn Pictures — Figures Omitted— .The Heart is Polluted First— 
Day-Dreaming — Literary Fictions — Tales not always Fictions — A Test to be Ap« 
plied to Works of Fiction. 

The influences which shape the actions, direct their ca- 
reers, and color the lives of men, are from two great worlds 
— the world of Fact and the world of Fiction. No man 
is influenced wholly by one or the other ; some men are 
Fact-men, other men are Fiction-men ; but the Fact-men 
are not all fact, nor the Fiction-men all fiction ; neither 
lives wholly in his own world ; each encroaches some- 
what on his neighbor. Some men boast of being matter- 
of-fact men, but they do not always consider how much 
they give themselves to fiction. It is not our province to 
inquire whether Fact or Fiction moves men most. That ' 
they both influence men is a fact. There can be no doubt 
but Fact reigns first. The babe is born among facts. The 
child looks first on facts - r feels facts ; hears facts ; tastes 
facts. The fast world te which the mind opens is a fact* 



78 FACTS IMPRESS US FIRST. 

world ; the first impressions it receives are fact-impres- 
sions; its first delights come from a contemplation of 
facts, and its first sorrows arise from the same source. 
This is true of all minds. Mind first feeds on fact. The 
outward world is all fact. The sun, moon, and stars ; the 
cloud, storm, and bow ; the house, the dress, and the rose ; 
he food, the toy, and the tool, are all facts. From these and 
ur associates we get our first impressions. These lay 
the groundwork of human culture. The angels, for aught 
we know, commenced their being in a similar way. We 
know that all earth-mind does, and why not all heaven- 
mind ? Is not creature-mind the same in all worlds ? 
And if so, must not the foundation of its culture and pro- 
gress be laid in a similar manner, and gathered from fact- 
material ? This view shows that the material fact-world 
is of no mean service in the grand school of intelligence 
into which the Father has sent his family of children. 

This world is a school-house, and its multitude of ma- 
terial facts are the apparatus for leading the pupil-minds 
onward to principles. Facts are the rounds in the ladder 
that leads up to principles. Back of all facts, and spirit- 
ually above them, lies the world of principles. Principles 
can not be learned first. The things which principles 
produce come first in the mental lesson. These things are 
facts. Facts are always results ; they are effects of un- 
seen causes. Causes lie in principles, and are not seen ; 
nothing is visible but effects. Causes are concealed 
among the eternal things ; the end of mental research is 
cause. That research must begin with effect. Hence H 



THE USE OF FACTS BY GKEAT MEN. 79 

is that we begin with facts. Hence it. is that the fact- 
world is the first we see and can see, the first we car con- 
ceive. 

There is infinite wisdom in opening the child's mind 
upon facts ; so there is in delighting the youthful mind 
with the beauty, variety, and splendor of the fact-world. 
This material fact- world ought to be enchanting to the 
young mind. That mind was made for culture and pro- 
gress, and this world for its school-house. If it did not 
like the house, it would not study ; if the lessons were dry 
and uninteresting, it would not give attention to them ; if 
there were not variety, and splendor, and amazing beauty, 
and interest in the furniture and garniture of the house 
spread around and through it for the young mind to study 
it would do nothing for its development. 

There is a beautiful testimony to the divine wisdom and 
goodness in the power of material facts over the human 
mind. This is seen when we remember that the mind is 
made for culture, growth, eternal progress ; and, that be- 
ing a created thing, it must commence at nothing and 
commence with facts. How Facts impress themselves on 
the young mind ! How they engrave their images, never 
to be forgotten, on the plastic substance of the soul ! 
How the grand pageantry of Facts which the Supreme 
Teacher is causing to move before us, stirs our souls to won- 
der and amazement, and awakens our powers to reflection 
and research ! How Facts have appealed to the Newtons, 
Herschels, Humboldts, Miltons, and Franklins of our 
world ! They have fed on Fact and grown strong. \y 



80 THE STUDY OF FACTS LEADS TO _?D3TY. 

they stand on the mountain steps of human progress, where 
their tall heads reach up into the clear sunlight of the 
world of everlasting principles. They have walked up to 
these immortal heights on the steps of Facts. 

Facts are not intended simply for the childhood cf mind 
All through life we draw fresh nutriment from Facts. Not 
nly is our common life built upon Fact, but all science is 
founded upon it. Men follow Up the streams of Fact to 
their mountain sources, and from these deduce the con- 
clusions of science. But to do this, Facts must be com- 
prehended. Their depths must be sounded ; their rela- 
tions studied ; their significance found. A natural fact is 
a word of God. To make it useful, it must be read. To 
read it, requires attention, study, research. The true and 
devout mind reads it ; the dolt and drone make no attempt. 

It has been said that " an undevout astronomer is mad." 
Can there be an undevout astronomer ? He who reads 
the magnificent facts which God has written all over the 
sky, all through the blue depths of immensity, with an un- 
derstanding heart, reads a volume of God which is infi- 
nitely glorious. There is devotion in such reading ; there 
is aspiration toward God ; there is culture, progress, men- 
tal growth. This devotion may not be so enlightened as 
it should be ; but does not God look with complacency upon 
it ? Do not the angel-hosts regard it with joy 1 Is not 
6uch reading a fit preparation for a deeper devotion and a 
grander mental glory by-and-by 1 Must not all fact-read- 
ers be thus preparing for sublimer realizations of piety and 
holier ascriptions of praise and adoration ? 



TWO KINDS OF FACTS. 81 

It appears to me that the geographer who explores the 
earth, the naturalist who collects and classifies the facts 
of the material kingdom, the agriculturist who studies and 
acquires a knowledge of the soil and growth of plants, tho 
mechanic who applies material facts to the comfort and 
progress of life, are all doing a work well-pleasing to their 
Maker. They are using his facts for their proper purposes 
and if not putting them to the best use possible, are still 
using them for good. If they read any part of the great 
book of God, and understand it a little, it will do them 
good. There is a divine glory in the physical sciences, 
and divine influences in their pursuit, which by-and-by will 
be more developed than now. So the facts of human his- 
tory are valuable. They have their richly instructive les- 
sons ; they are higher than simple, material facts. 

There are two worlds of original facts — the material 
and spiritual. The facts of human history are a medium 
between them, a sort of mutual blending of the two. The 
use which mind has made of material facts is here indi- 
cated ; the different readings of the elder book of God are 
aere recorded ; the foot-prints of human progress are left 
on the sands of Time, as the foot-prints of birds and ani- 
mals are on the rocky strata of the earth. They are import- 
ant facts. History is strictly a science ; it is built on 
facts. These facts should be studied, their meaning com- 
prehended. Every fact in history has a grand significance ; 
it is linked with the two worlds — the material and spirit- 
ual ; is dual in its origin ; is a growth of the past, a se- 
quence of previous facts, and a cause of future ones. To 
4* 



82 SPLBITUAL AND MATERIAL FACTS. 

understand the facts of history is to comprehend the prin- 
ciples out of which they grow. So to understand any 
fact is to comprehend its causing principles. 

Human history being dual in its origin, being the use 
which mind has made of material fact, is a higher study 
than material science : it is a step upward ; its facts then 
are solemnly significant. The student of history should 
go to his task with a devout mind. Grandly interesting 
are the steps of human progress. The strides of nations 
have made large tracks in the fields of Time. Genera- 
tions have made mighty highways on which they have 
traveled over the continents of human existence, and along 
these the milestones of their progress are set up as signif- 
icant facts which the historian should read with a solemn 
interest and reverent mind. Every fact in human history 
is a word in God's providence. How reverently it should 
be read ! There are also mental and spiritual facts, the 
facts which relate to man as a rational intelligence and 
those which relate to God as a primary cause and an 
omnipotent and omnipresent spirit. These are a tertiary 
order of facts, and can not be comprehended till the 
others have been read and studied in order. 

First, material facts affect the mind ; secondly, human 
actions ; thirdly, mental and spiritual experiences. The 
steps are regular and natural, and operate alike upon all, 
only in different degrees. We first see and touch material 
things. "We then contemplate and comprehend something 
of the actions, objects, and uses of our fellows about us . 
and these bring us to a contemplation of our experiences, 



FICTION. 83 

of what we feel, know, imagine. And this brings us at 
once to the borders of the world of Fiction. We deal 
with facts at first in their orders. These develop our ca- 
pacities ; or, rather, our powers of mind develop by the 
use they make of facts till they begin themselves to create 
another world or order of imaginative facts. These con- 
stitute the world of Fiction. When these begin to be cre- 
ated in the chambers of the mind, a new and powerful 
order of influence is brought to bear upon it ; a new world 
is opened, and often an apparently lawless one ; new pow- 
ers are rapidly developed, new scenes are spread before 
the mind's eye ; gorgeous prospects often rise before it ; 
bewitching and bewildering forms and colors float around 
it, and entrancing beauties captivate its visions. 

When the young mind first develops within itself the 
capacity to create an imvard world of Fiction, it is often 
like a child with new playthings, or a little girl with her 
first doll, all delighted and taken captive. This is the pe- 
riod of early youth, a very interesting and a very danger- 
ous period in every one's life. It is made both interesting 
and dangerous by the opening world of Fiction. With 
childish blood yet frolicking in his veins ; with many sights 
and facts just imaged on his mind, with experiences fresh, 
and warm, and seemingly spontaneous, he feels a power 
within him to combine and arrange all his knowledge at 
his will, to create such scenes as he pleases, and live in 
such a world as his new tastes and desires may crave. 
And this power he puts to daily and hourly tasks. It is 
simply the power of imagination. We speak of it often 



84 DANGEROUS CHARACTER OF FICTION". 

but little think how grand and dangerous a power it is. It 
will create the beautiful or the hideous, the true or the 
false to Fact, the good or the bad, and do either with 
equal facility. And .what it creates has much the influ- 
ence of Fact upon the mind. It looks like Fact ; it im 
presses like Fact ; it is remembered like Fact. It stirs 
the mental powers like Fact ; it awakens the passions, 
fires the desires, and causes emotions like Fact, and often 
becomes more vigorous and awakening in its influence 
than Fact itself. 

The fictions of the imagination are often more potent 
than facts, because they are exaggerations of reality ; they 
bring before the minds of common life uncommon scenes. 
They are overdrawn pictures ; too intense to be real, ex 
cept in rare cases. If bright, they are too bright ; if 
dark, they are too dark ; if good, they are too good ; and 
if bad, they are too bad for ordinary human life. Thus 
the stimulus they bring is unnatural and unhealthy; it 
makes common life irksome, common duties unpleasant, 
common pleasures insipid. It is often the case that, in 
youthful minds, the proper and virtuous feelings are 
burned up by this strange fire of Fiction, enkindled upon 
the altar of a wayward imagination. 

In vicious minds these fictions are usually as intense 
as in virtuous minds, and are generally base, vulgar, and 
brutal, not to say devilish. Crime originates in the base 
fictions of the mind. Vice paints its own portraits, and 
hangs them on the walls of the inner temple. Lewdness 
has its fiction-pictures within. The inner fiction-scenerv 



OVERDRAWN PICTURES. 85 

of a wicked heart is more revolting than any realities of 
which the world kiwws any thing. Who ever visited a 
brothel until he had had a thousand brothel scenes hung 
in fiction-pictures around the apartments of his soul? 
Who ever committed theft, or robbery, or murder, till he 
had learned how in the fiction-practice of his heart 1 
Who ever practiced art, deception, or fraud till he had 
tried the awful experiment in the secret recesses where 
no eye enters but God's ? Fiction-wickedness is always 
worse than Fact. For the fiction is always successful 
and prosperous. He who draws a fiction-picture of 
fraud, puts no officer of justice in the background, no 
frown of an outraged conscience over it like a cloud of 
wrath, no lightning-glance of God playing through that 
cloud, and no wreck of hopes and peace in the distant 
shadings. These should all have been in the picture. 
And here is just where Fiction is false to Fact. When 
lust pictures its lewd scenes, it never gives a shadow of 
misery, a skeleton of wretchedness stalking away as the 
inevitable consequence of the career of lust. Vicious 
fiotions are terribly false ; if they were true they would 
be useful. For then they would show the live, triple- 
headed monster of misery, run, and despair wedded to 
the vicious heart. But they do not do it, but, instead, 
portray the beautiful form of Pleasure smiling upon the 
devotee of vice. 

The very fountain-head of evil is in the fiction-chambor 
of the soul. That fountain is wide and deep ; it is not 
found only in a few hearts whose outward 'ives are daik 



00 DAT-DREAMING. 

and bad, but in many hearts, and perhaps I ought to say 
all hearts. Who would be willing to have all his fiction- 
pictures hung on his face for the world to see? Who 
in his heart has no scene of lust, passion, or pride before 
which his face would not blush with shame if the world 
could see it as he does. Then there is another class of 
fiction-pictures, not so bad as these, but bad enough, and 
too bad by far: the folly-pictures, the vanity-colorings. 
See how many young minds are literally crowned with 
the fictions of their own vanity, grand parades of folly. 
These are not true to fact ; they leave out the shallow- 
ness and moral corruption of vanity, its utter baseness. 
Then they do not call it vanity ; they give it another 
name — beauty, or taste,. or dignity, or high-life, or respect- 
ability, or some other passable cognomen. Purify men's 
imaginations, or, in other words, make their fiction-views 
true to fact, and you would take off the plumes of vanity 
at once, and vice would be brought to close quarters very 
soon. We should soon have another world, and a better 
one by far. 

There is still another kind of fiction-picturing which is 
a prolific source of evil ; it is day-dreaming, revery, a 
letting loose the reins of thought to let the coursers steer 
where they will; it is a kind of mental chaos, or, more 
strictly, dissipation. I do not mean meditation, for in 
meditation the reins of thought are held steadily and 
firmly in the hands of the will. But in revery the will 
is dismissed from its post, the guards are all put to sleep, 
and away go the mental powers with the most active in 



DAY-DREAMING. 87 

the lead at full gallop after — what? Why nothing, ab- 
solutely nothing ; or sometimes it may be a shadow or a 
ghost from the past, the shade of some buried hope, or 
some old disappointment, or some half-forgotten sorrow, 
or some vision of darkness never to be realized, or some 
unreal evil or sprite from the cell of fear, thus filling the 
mind with unpleasant shadows and unfitting it for active 
duties, for being happy itself, or making or even permit- 
ting others to be so. In minds that have realized much 
sorrow, or that are gloomy or ascetic by nature or educa- 
tion, or those of a fearful and foreboding cast of mind, 
this form of fiction-picturing is baneful in the extreme. 
It poisons and corrupts lives otherwise sweet and beauti- 
ful, and wastes powers and virtues otherwise useful and 
inspiring to others. Sorrows which are long past, and 
which have been sanctified in the soul for good, are thus 
revived afresh ; the shadows of clouds that have passed 
away never to return are brought up, and trials, and 
troubles, and vexations never to be realized, are made as 
though they were . Many a mind has been all ruined by 
such gloomy reveries without any real cause, and many a 
soul beautifully virtuous has, like a star in gloomy night- 
time, waded through clouds to its setting, having given 
but a fickle and feeble light. Other minds of an opposite 
make, this species of revery has elated to a feverish gid- 
diness, a sort of lunatic intoxication. They have over- 
drawn the picture of life, overcolored it, overdressed it, 
made it a gala-day sport or a splendid pleasure scene. It 
has made them great, sporting babies only not half so in- 



88 LITERARY FICTIONS. 

nocenfc nor so pretty, because too old. Day-dreaming is 
perilous ; it unbalances the mind and unfits it for duty 
for improvement, for happiness. Day-working is, better 
whether it be in study or handicraft. 

Fiction has assumed two general forms. The first we 
ave considered ; it is mental fiction, or the fiction we 
create in our own minds for our own contemplation. 
The second is the fiction created for others, untruthful 
and unnatural stories, the written dreams of distempered 
minds, or, in our words, novels. That can not be consid- 
ered Fiction which is true to Fact. A representation of 
truth is not a Fiction. A story every element of which is 
true to common fact is not a Fiction. A tale which justly 
illustrates a principle, or a real life, or a genuine experi- 
ence, is not a Fiction. In all these cases Fact would be 
fairly expressed and elucidated. A true picture is not a 
Fiction. It is faithful, reliable, and proper. For truth 
may be told, is expected to be known and studied. Fic- 
tion is false, not true to Fact, Fact distorted, Fact partly 
concealed, Fact in mask, or in some way changed so 
as to be essentially false. Fiction is not a direct false- 
hood made of whole cloth, but a falsehood made of patch- 
work, or a false coloring, or exaggerated statement, or 
deceitful representation that " leads to bewilder and daz- 
zles to blind." It presents life, nature, fact in an unnat- 
ural, and therefore untrue, aspect. It is an expression of 
the possible, but not the probable. If Fiction was true to 
Fact, it would be for all purposes of mental culture as 
good as Fact. But just here is the evil of F'ction ; it is 



LITERARY FICTIONS. 8S 

not true to Fact, and therefore the culture it imparts is 
not healthy. To read fiction and to feast on revery may 
impart to the mind a certain kind and degree of culture 
but the culture is sickly and of doubtful value. If day- 
dreams were visions of nature, they would do the mind 
good. If written tales give us life just as men live it 
truthful, impressive, with all its great lessons, they are 
useful. They recite before our eyes the ever-instructive 
story of life, and impress us with its varied and infinite 
uses. But if they discolor life, they are false prophe- 
cies and teachings, deceptions, hypocrisies, " old wives' 
fables." They corrupt the very fountains of thought and 
feeling ; they pour poison into the mental chalice ; they 
light unnatural and sinful fires on the soul's altars ; 
they breathe malaria into the spiritual atmosphere ; they 
infect the garments worn within with the virus of moral 
death. 

Bad things are fictions. Handle a serpent, taste poi- 
son sooner. In the youthful mind they are ignis fatuus, 
burning to deceive, a grand cheat inviting to conquer, a 
gilded charm seducing to kill. The world is full of writ- 
ten fiction. It is a steaming hot-bed of vice. It panders 
to depravity, and does reverence to the devil. It is 
basketed about our streets, huddled into our cars and 
cabins, pushed into our doors, spread before our children, 
and crowded into our papers and bookstores. These fic- 
tions multiply upon us like the swarms of locusts upon 
Egypt ; and they are equally destructive. A novel is not 
necessarily a fiction ; it may be a laithful picture of life; 



90 TALES NOT ALWAYS FICTIONS. 

may hold up before us glittering virtues, noble lessons of 
self-sacrifice, pity, and benevolence, and exhibit what 
man should most know, self-reliance and trust in God. 
Between such a picture and fiction there is a world-wide 
difference. One is written for good, as a sermon is 
preached or a moral essay composed ; the other for ag- 
grandizement, money, or to pander to passions. One is 
written from the heart of goodness to breathe its fresh- 
ness into others ; the other is written from the head of 
selfishness to dupe the young and giddy to praise and 
pay. A true novel is Fact in picture ; a false novel is 
Fiction in mask. Between Fact in picture and Fiction 
in mask, who shall decide ? Not inexperienced youth ; 
not uncultured mind ; but wisdom and sage experience. 
Here is a rock on which many a well-meaning sailor will 
split. Who shall tell him which is which? He may 
not heed the voice of wisdom. But this one rule may 
serve him well : Ask the object in every novel, and the 
color of the author's spirit. If both are good, such as God 
approves, read ; and as he reads, let written fact with 
life's experience be compared well ; then Fact on his 
soul will pour its stream of light, and Fiction cloud not it* 
radiant face. 



jKtwn tfigftt. 

THE EEAL AND THE IDEAL. 

Two Influences — The Real and the Ideal — Mission of Each — The Material and 
the Spiritual— Our Alliance with Materiality— Duties Growing out of this Rela- 
tion—Our Appetites God-given— We should Govern and Educate them— The 
Sensuous Nature sometimes becomes Master — Consequent Degradation — All 
Things Given for our Use — Wrong to Misuse Them — There is a Remedy for 
Every Thing — Christ and the Ideal — The Poet and the Prophet — Beauty of 
the Ideal — Aim High — The Ideal a Witness for Immortality — Every One should 
have a Pure and High Ideal. 

Men are acted upon from two sources, the Actual and 
the Ideal. It is right that they should be thus acted upon. 
The question to be decided is, How much should the Real 
and how much should the Ideal operate upon us, in form- 
ing our characters and molding our lives ? 

If only the Real influences us, we shall be gross, sen- 
sual, earthly. If only the Ideal operates upon us, we shall 
be vapid, visionary, and ethereal. We are suspended be- 
tween the two antipodes. From one side pour in all the 
gross, weighty, and deceitful influences of the flesh — the 
appetites, lusts, and passions, with their commingled union 
and acquaintance with material and earthly things. From 
the other side come the ten thousand fancies, with their 
stories of pleasures untasted, beauties unseen, and delights 
un»«?alized, and all the gorgeous and alluring phantasies 



92 THE KEAL AND THE IDEAL. 

that take being and form in the creative chambers of the 
imagination. Thus, between these two opposing forces 
all men are suspended, like planets hung in the sky- 
Earth is on one side, heaven on the other ; the material 
is drawing them one way, the spiritual the other; the 
devil holds on from below, while God invites from above. 

Some men yield to the grasp of the sensual, and walk 
amid the gross sensuosities of the flesh, sink the animal 
down to the devilish, and bury the angel in the mire of 
corrupted earth. Some men listen to the Divine Voice, 
and, captivated by its unearthly sweetness, turn away from 
the realities of the lower life, and fly on outstretched wings 
to ideal scenes pictured on the retina of their souls. 

There are two lives— one earthly, the other heavenly ; 
one born of the flesh, the other of the spirit. Things Real 
minister to the first ; things Ideal to the last. So there 
are two worlds — one the gross material, the other the re- 
fined spiritual. One is tangible and sensible, the other is 
invisible and ethereal. So there are two universes — one 
breaks on our outward senses, and its glory bewilders our 
eyes ; the other shines only on the spiritual sight, and its 
beauty steals into and entrances our souls. One is out- 
ward, the other is inward ; and they are related to each 
other as the nut and its shell, or the soul and its body. 
They correspond with and minister to each other. The 
material life gives substantial aspect and grandeur to the 
spiritual, and the spiritual imparts vHality and beauty to 
the material. That which belongs to the outward and 
visible life ajad world we denominate the Real ; that which 



MISSION OF EACH. 93 

rises before our minds, and glitters on the walls of the 
spirit's chambers, painted by unseen fingers, and touched 
by the exquisite radiance of ethereal colors, we call the 
Ideal. In strictness of speech, in philosophical exactness, 
in the last analysis, the Ideal would become ir. this view 
he most and only Real. • Spirit is more rea ? than matter; 
mind more real than body ; life more real than form ; God 
more real than the tangible universe, But sufficiently ex- 
act for the moral lesson we have before us, is the definition 
we have given. 

That the Real should occupy its proper place among the 
objects of life, should engage its proper share of our time, 
and engross its due proportion of our attention, is most 
clearly the dictate of wisdom. In this state of being we 
are wedded to materiality. Flesh is our bride. Matter is 
our brother. Earth is our mother. We are related to our 
gardens and farms, our shops and ships. The rocks and 
trees are our kindred ; the sun and stars greet us with 
fraternal smiles. We ought to feel a friendship for these 
things, and cultivate that friendship with the hand of a 
careful tiller. Our bodies are our earth-houses. To 
neglect them would be folly ; to abuse them would be 
wicked ; to feed them with kindly and judicious care, to 
clothe them with friendly comfort and affectionate taste, 
to adorn them with the rose of health and the form and 
color of beauty, to preserve them from danger and decay, 
are the lessons which wisdom is ever teaching her chil- 
dren. Our forms are of God's making ; and if he deems 
them worth making, we shall deem them worth keeping 



94 OUR APPETITES GOD-GIVEN. 

and keeping well. Our appetites are contrived and made 
by Divine Wisdom and skill, and it becomes us to hold 
them as choice subjects of our guardian care. Our desires 
are divine gifts ; it were base to abuse the gifts of love. 
Our marriage with the flesh was solemnized by God ; i 
were ungrateful in us not to rejoice in the union, and seek 
to make u a pure and holy one. The propensities result- 
ing from this union are its God-ordained offspring ; it were 
infidelity in us not to hold these children as our own, and 
govern and educate them according to the precepts of 
wisdom and righteousness. Our appetites, desires, and 
propensities are right in themselves, and are worthy of our 
most careful training ; we should not only receive them 
with gratitude as God's, gifts, but we should delight in their 
proper gratification ; for when we thus enjoy them, they 
minister to our higher nature, and are the waiting servants 
to our spiritual faculties. And this is their true office. 
They are innate powers, apprenticed for time to work for 
the higher faculties. They are low loves, designed as the 
embryos of higher ones. They are the seeds of immortal 
aspirations, planted in the soil of earth. They are the 
first loves of the child, and mingle more or less with all 
the loves of manhood, and form the rudimental types of 
spiritual affections. As servants, they are vastly use ful. 
They awaken, inspire, warm, vjvify, and empower all the 
higher loves. They apply material things to spiritual 
uses. Their objects of interest are material things Their 
mother is materiality. Hence they link us with the out- 
ward universe. They attach us to thing? real. They 



CONSEQUENT DEGRADATION. 95 

show us material beauty. Without these' we should care 
little for the universe. Where is the value or beauty ot 
fruit, without appetite 1 Where is the charm hid in the 
flower, without the idea of fruit that grows out of it, aud 
the genitive love of which it is born, and the inviting 
aroma it throws out, and the material forms and colors it 
spreads. 

Things Real minister to what we denominate our animal 
affections. And then these affections in turn minister to 
our spiritual natures. This is true when our sensuous 
natures are held in their proper spheres, and act in their 
proper directions, and in conjunction with our higher 
natures. But it is too frequently the case that our sensu- 
ous nature acts alone. It too often becomes the master, 
overpowers the mental faculties, establishes a strong tyran- 
ny in the soul, and devotes all the inner powers to its pur- 
poses. Sometimes a particular propensity rules, as in the 
inebriate, the libertine, the epicure, and miser. Sometimes 
the whole sensuous nature assumes the throne, as in the 
worldling. This is the more general form of evil. The 
sensuous nature rises and rules. Things Real become the 
all-absorbing objects of pursuit. Things to eat and to 
wear, for pleasure and show, for time and sense, become 
the all for which to live. The Real appears like the infi- 
nite. Earth glows as though it were heaven. The fruit 
which tempted Adam grows yellow before the eyes 
Pleasure smiles as a goddess. Folly decks herself as 
though she were an angel. Show rears ner gaudy front 
as though sne were enduring substance. Sense takes tfrt 



96 EVERY THING GIVEN FOR OUR USE. 

place of soul. Matter puts on the crown of mind. The 
Real becomes the all ; man, first a beast ; then a brute ; then 
a devil. Soul is baptized in sense. The springs of pol 
lution rise in every propensity, and their waters overflow 
the fields of life. Then almost incarnate evil seems and 
is the once fair child of God, and its beautiful talents are 
trampled in the mire of moral corruption. This is the sad 
result of living for the Real. This is the abuse of mate- 
rial things, which the Scriptures denominate sin. 

Every thing on this fair earth, and every thing in our 
fairer natures, were made to be used by us in our earth- 
life ; and when used properly, with right motives and feel- 
ings, administer to our moral advancement and real happi- 
ness. To eat for the- real objects of eating, is to beautify 
and strengthen our bodies and minds, and to quicken our 
hearts with grateful emotions to God. To eat for the 
simple gratification of sense, is to corrupt soul and body, 
and sacrifice the pure and high on the Epicurean altar 
To dress for the proper objects of dressing, is to cultivate 
a pleasing and elevating taste, to subdue an arrant desire 
for show which always appears in rude, uncultivated races 
and people, and protect and adorn, as God does his uni- 
verse, the dwellings which he has made for our spirits ; 
but to dress to catch the eyes of the world, and cheat man- 
kind with a tawdry show, is a barefaced lie, a bald and 
foolish sin, sensual and corrupting. To engage in business 
from cold and selfish motives, from ambition, avarice, or 
sensualism, and hoard up wealth for the gratification of 
of these unhallowed passions, is a prostitution of talents 



WRONG TO MISDSE THEM. 97 

which is an abomination in the sight of God, and a burn- 
ing sin and shame in man ; but to engage in business, and 
honorably accumulate this world's good for the noble pur- 
poses of business, the development of our own powers, the 
support and comfort of ourselves and families, the advance- 
ment of social interests, and the promotion of the objects 
of benevolence, is one of the most efficient means of hu- 
man elevation devised in the economy of Infinite Wisdom. 

Things Real were made for good; but they may be 
misused. The manner of using is the all-important point 
to determine. If used for good, they are good ; if used 
for evil, they are evil. But the first and most palpable 
office of things Real is to awaken and administer to sen- 
sualism ; so that the constant danger in pursuing the Real 
as the object of life, is of becoming absorbed in this lower 
and material life ; of being gross, groveling, and sensual. 
To pursue wealth with a constant and eager chase, is to 
expose our souls to the danger of forgetting its spiritual 
uses, and becoming lost in its sensuous glory. So of all 
pleasure, amusement, and station, all purely worldly ob- 
jects. They often drown their devotees in their own 
waters. And this danger can be guarded against only by 
giving the Ideal its proper place in our affections. Hence 
to the Ideal we must turn as the antidote to the Real. 

Every disease has its remedy ; every sin a Saviour. 
When Christ would save the world from sin he said, 
" Have faith." The world was bound to the Real. In 
that bondage was its sin and misery. He would break 
this sensuous chain, and break it by faith. The phil- 
5 



[)8 CHRIST AND TH£ IDEAL. 

osopliy of his exhortation was, " Turn, turn, for why will 
ye die in your bondage to sense ? See, a new kingdom 
is set up. Have faith, and it is yours. Unbar the grated 
dungeon of sense, spread your spiritual wings, and come 
up into the clear, blue realm of faith, where all beautiful 
things cluster. Here ye may dwell in perennial peace 
and love ; here ye may meet the graces of heaven and the 
virtues of earth'; here ye may make an altar to the True, 
the Beautiful, and the Good ; here grow the fruits of the 
spirit, and from the tree of faith ye may pluck them 
freely and joyously ; here ye may enter the ante-chamber 
of God, where he will come and dwell with you." 

Nothing is clearer than that Christ sought to turn the 
minds of men from the things Real, which so engross 
and absorb human affections, to the things Ideal, which 
take form and being in the cultured field of Faith. Faith 
gives existence to things that are not, but will be. It 
forms the Ideal of the life we should live ; prefigures the 
good we should do ; paints the virtue we should possess 
the beauty we should wear ; and the joy we should feel. 
Faith beholds in other and higher beings what we may 
attain, and what we >ught to strive for. It writes in the 
heart the moral poem of life, and breathes through the 
soul the music of perfect moral harmony. The Ideal is 
the poetical ; it is the world, life, beauty, and blessedness 
which the imagination creates as a prophecy of the pos- 
sible and probable. It is the present order of things per- 
fected ; it is the chaos of the present harmonized in the 
future ; it is order developed from disorder ; peace 



THE POET AND THE PROPHET. 99 

wrought out of war ; life, pure and perfect, grown out of 
death. The Idealist is the poet, prophet, and child of 
Faith. The poet sees the perfect, beautiful, harmonious, 
and grand ; the prophet contemplates results in their final 
issues, the future completeness of present things, rising to 
a higher and more glorious order of things ; the child of 
Faith views the perfect and the prophetic as Real and 
attainable ; so that the Ideal includes poetry, prophecy, 
and faith. The moral influence of these on life is pure, 
elevating, and spiritualizing. They counteract the down 
ward and narrowing tendency of the Real. They check 
the influence of material things. They stay the tides 
which set toward infidelity. They hold the glass to the 
dull eye of doubt ; and show a God to the stupid compre- 
hension of Atheism. They strengthen human vision, 
quicken reason, animate the spirits, enlarge the affec- 
tions, widen the sympathies, deepen the emotions, elevate 
the aspirations, in a word, magnify and dignify all human 
powers. Take the poet alone, and he is vastly superior to 
the dull, plodding, purblind devotee of sense. He lives for 
higher and nobler purposes. His companions are the most 
beautiful things and beings that exist in nature, or people 
the realms of spirit. He lives in the blaze of beauty, 
surrounded by the perfect and companioned by the pure. 
The prophet is the poet baptized in the font of religion. 
He sees the Divine Hand moving among the worlds 
and nations, the divine law set for the purposes of eternal 
order and glory, and the Divine Judge administering the 
awards of justice and illuminating the grand scene with 



100 BEAUTY OF THE IDEAL. 

the sunshine of mercy. The child of Faith is the prophet 
spiritualized. He sees another world within this out- 
ward one, another life below, or rather abuve, the sen 
suous, a beauty behind all Real things, eternal, undefiled, 
and glorious. He lives for the unseen, for the other 
world, and the other life. And that other world and other 
life are in and around him. He sees them in his mental 
visions ; he feels them in his communions ; he enters 
them in his prayers ; he realizes them in those high 
modes of thought and elevated emotions, and those flights 
into the pure realm of spirit which be makes when he 
Sosens his hold upon the Real and sensuous, and dwells 
m the inner sanctuary of his being. The influence of the 
Ideal is always toward the upper and inward world. 

Whatever be our pursuits in life, the Ideal of our 
attainments is a close approach to what it should be. 
The youth's Ideal of manhood is likely to be high and 
noble. Every man's Ideal of success is good. The tyro 
in learning pictures the fair fields of mental culture rich 
in the blossoming fruits of knowledge, wisdom, and use- 
fulness, and gazes at his Ideal life with ambitious rapture 
The young artist has in his mind the Ideal creations of 
genius, which enthrall his imagination and inspire his soul 
to toils and trials which real things would fail to give him 
power to meet. The youthful patriot yields to a similar 
inspiration, and puts forth a strength of purpose and a 
heroic zeal in his country's cause which do him infinite 
honor. The zealous philanthropist is moved by the Idea] 
of benevolence which works upon his soul like a myste- 



BEAUTY OF THE IDEAL. 101 

rious and divine charm, awakening within him a strong 
and glorious desire to do good unto all. And the Chris 
tian, inspired by the electric fires of divine truth and love 
forms in the eye of his faith a life of divine beauty and 
perfection, for which his soul pants as the thirsty traveler 
for the water-brooks. The same is true of the men and 
women of all trades, professions, and callings regarded as 
honorable or useful in life. They form ideals of noble 
attainments in their several callings, and these ideals are 
becoming angels, inviting, urging, pressing them onward. 
It is true of us all in the journey of life. Our ideal life 
goes before us like a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by 
night — a form of beauty and a blaze of glory for which 
we bear to live and dare to die. In that Ideal we have 
faith, perhaps not perfect, but more or less strong, and 
that faith prompts to action, toil, privation, sacrifice, and 
death. When Paul said of Christians, " we walk by 
faith," he expressed a great truth applicable to all men 
in a lower sense. Christian faith is the highest .type of 
the Ideal. We all walk by faith. The only difference 
is in the object upon which we fix our Faith. The 
infidel and the Atheist who scoff at Christian faith are 
themselves walking by faith. In metaphysical principle 
it is the same. Faith is as natural as sight. The Ideal 
is as natural as the Real. They are the iypes of the 
two worlds, the material and spiritual. The little child 
walks by faith. I have seen a child that would throw 
itself from the eaves of a house, when its father standing 
below with uplifted arms and eyes, would say, " Come 



102 AIM HIGH. 

jump, my dear." Down it would come like a bird. It 
came on the wings of faith. Children live by faith even 
more than men, because they are more natural. 

How often the little boy exclaims in joy, " When I am 
man," and the little girl, " When I am a woman." It is 
he Ideal that glitters on their sight. It is the faith that 
ees the glory of a completed life. Does not the voice 
of age and wisdom bid youth set high its mark 1 " Shoot 
at the sun," is the sage advice of experience. And what 
does this mean, but that the Ideal be perfect, the object of 
faith shall be noble and high ? " Aim high," our fathers 
have always said to us. Complete the Ideal, is its mean- 
ing-. The nobler and more perfect the Ideal, the truer 
and higher the life. 

Some laugh at the Ideal as though it were folly. But 
they are poor philosophers, and know little of themselves. 
In proportion as we check or corrupt the Ideal, we de- 
grade life. Where there is no Ideal, there is brutality. It 
has been said that " Man is an animal, and something 
more." That " something more" is his capacity to enter- 
tain the Ideal. We had better be dead than to annihilate 
the Ideal which we create within us. It is true the Ideal 
should be regulated by discretion. Judgment should 
guide it. Its lawless rule has given birth to superstition, 
fanaticism, bigotry ; has peopled the past with ghosts, 
witches, fairies, naiads, and demons. But, with all its 
abuses, it is the symbol of human greatness, the inslru- 
mentality of human good, and the pledge of human ro* 
demption. 



A PURE AND HIGH IDEAL. 103 

The Ideal, to me, is the natural testimony of immor- 
tality, the inward witness of spiritual existence, the 
corroborative voice of Christianity. Christianity is based 
on the unseen. Its glorious structure rises where eye 
hath not seen. Christianity is itself invisible, and he- 
longs to the department of the Ideal. It is Real, but 
spiritually so. It is not a thing of sense, but of spirit. 
Its principles are not seen, but comprehended. Its laws 
are not felt by touch, but by spirit. Its step of progress 
is not heard by the ear, but by the understanding. It all 
comes to us by faith. It falls upon the inward sight. To 
be Christians, we must cultivate the Ideal. We must 
seek for the true in fact and doctrine, the right in prin- 
ciple, the perfect in morality, the pure in spirituality. 
" Seek first the kingdom of heaven," said the Saviour, 
" and all these things shall be added unto you ;" that is, 
seek first for the correct in faith and the right in princi- 
ple, or, in other words, make the Ideal right, and all things 
Real which you need will come as a natural consequence. 
Our first care should be for a perfect Ideal of life. When 
this is formed, our next should be to embody that Ideal. 
In doing this, things Real will take their proper places and 
perform their proper office in administering to our good. 
The world has committed two errors. The first is, it 
has given too great prominence to the Real, and sought it 
with too great and too blind an avidity. The second is, 
it has not sought to regulate the Ideal v/ith sufficient 
strength of purpose ; it has not seen the importance of 
purifying, elevating, and perfecting the Ideal life. Against 



104: A PUKE AND HIGH IDEAL. 

these errors men should direct their efforts of leform. 
The Real must not, and can not, be sought with impunity 
as the principal object in life. The Ideal is the first 
object of our righteous care. The forms that people our 
maginations are vastly more important than dollars, food 
r raiment, than thrones, kingdoms, or principalities 
They should be pure and perfect. When they are, our 
life is modeled after them, and becomes the self-formed 
work of faith and duty which it should be, a blessing and 
joy to us and mankind, and an honor to God. 



THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 

What Appears and what Is — We See the Forms, but not the Spirit of Things- 
Things and their Meaning — We Swim on the Surface — Immortality — Life and 
Power Lie in the Unseen— Things Change, Laws are Immutable, Nations De- 
cay, but the Principles of Social Organization Remain— The Moving Power of 
All Things is Unseen— Degrees of Materiality— The Mineral Kingdom— Water 
—Air— The Gases— Caloric— Chemical Affinity— Attraction— Electricity— Si- 
lence of the Unseen Forces— An Eloquent Extract— The Unseen is Enduring— 
The Invisible should Reign over the Visible. 

It is a trite old saying, and no more trite than true, that 
appearances are often deceitful. The world is full of 
illustrations of this remark. The sun appears to rise and 
set ; but grave men tell us it stands still in the center of a 
family of worlds. The stars appear to move ; but they, 
too, we are wisely informed, are fixed centers, fastened by 
the Almighty fiat to their points in space. The sky 
appears to be a vast concave of polished crystal ; but 
this is an illusion of sight; for it is only the immense 
ethereal sea in which the worlds swim as the fish in the 
ocean. The rainbow appears to be a dense and perma- 
nent arch of beauty, reared against a cloud of immovable 
substance ; but philosophy etherealizes both the bow and 
the cleud. Fire appears to burn ; but chemists would tax 
5* 



106 WHAT APPEARS AND WHAT IS. 

our credulity with the assertion that it is caloric — an in* 
visible substance, which produces the effect which we call 
burning. And when a combustible substance is burned, 
it appears to us te> be nearly annihilated ; but our Rabbis 
in science solemnly assure us that not a particle is lost. 

We turn our eyes toward a beautiful landscape, and we 
fancy we see it ; but, alas ! it is not so. It is only the 
image of the landscape that we see — a shadow cast upon 
the retina of the eye. No human creature ever saw the 
earth or the sky, or any thing therein. It is only the 
reflection that we see, like that caught in the camera 
of the daguerreotypist. 

. Our bodies appear to us to be the same from year to 
year ; but physiologists are bold enough to declare this a 
delusion ; for so rapidly are we changing, that every seven 
years we become entirely new creatures, not a particle 
being left of that which once constituted our bodies. Man 
appears to die ; but Revelation assures us that " all live 
unto God ;" that the seemingly dead, " the absent," are 
" present with the Lord," living " in a house not made with 
hands, eternal in the heavens." 

We might call all heaven and earth to witness, that 
things are not what they seem to be in this lower sphere. 
There is something behind all we see that makes it other- 
wise than it appears. We look at the face of all tempo- 
ralities, but do not look into them. We look at the face 
of a clock and learn the passing hour of time ; but the 
moving power of that clock lies in the mystery hidden be- 
hind its face We look at a man and admire his beauty 



THINGS AND THEIR MEANING. 107 

and power ; but all of the real man is out of sight. He 
lives and works behind the curtain of flesh. The arm is 
strong ; but the will is stronger. The arm we see ; the 
will we do not. We are sensuous, and take sensuous 
views of things. Our senses are caught with the blaze 
of the outward. Sight allures us, and deceives us too ; 
not necessarily, but because we rest in the visible. All 
things have their interior and exterior, their soul and body, 
their essence and life. We look on the exterior, and ask 
no admittance within. We see the body, and stop with 
that. We see, and stop with sight ; we hear, and stop 
with sound ; we feel, and rest in feeling ; we taste, and 
end there. We do not push in. 

The meaning of things is always behind them and in- 
visible. A word and its meaning are two things. The 
word Ave see ; its meaning we do not. A dollar and its 
value are two things. The dollar we see ; its value is 
out of sight. A figure and its number are the substance 
and its representation. This rudimental life we now live 
is a grand system of Algebra. We work by signs. The 
Seen intimates the Unseen. In Algebra the known rep- 
resents the unknown. In life we seldom work out the 
problem. We see the sign, the representative, and ask 
not for the represented. Every thing seen is equivalent 
to something unseen. But we seldom study the grand 
aw of equivalents — some call it correspondences. If we 
were more spiritual we should do so. 

We are not so much too sensuous as not enough spirit- 
ual. We are not too much acquainted with the Seen, but 



108 THINGS SEEN PASS AWAY. 

not enough with the Unseen. We do not see too mi ch, but 
perceive too little. We are little insects that swim on the 
surface; not great fish that go down among the clear, 
calm deeps in the everlasting ocean of waters. Being on 
the surface, every breeze dashes us about, every wind 
visits us roughly. We have no " abiding city," no firm 
resting-place, no " anchor sure and steadfast." The deep 
waters of everlasting truth are below us ; their signs and 
symbols are flashing up in the sky above us. We see the 
signs, but do not read the truths they represent. We walk 
by sight, and not by faith. A few men in all ages have 
seen a little way into some things. That number is in- 
creasing. The sensuous life is calling attention to the 
spiritual. So it should. Men are more than they seem 
to be. " What is man that thou art mindful of him ?" He 
is something great, glorious, and eternal. Every man has 
an eternal depth of life in him. He lives. This he knows. 
Who shall say he will ever die 1 Who shall prove that 
his thinking and loving shall ever stop 1 Who shall dis- 
prove man's immortality? 

Men have reasoned wrongly on immortality hitherto. 
Immortality is not to be proved. It stands out a fact, of 
itself to be disproved. The burden of proof is on him who 
denies it. I know I live. Who will prove to me that I 
hall cease to live 1 Immortality is predicated on the Un- 
seen. Things Seen pass away. The visible of man, his 
body, dies. We know this ; but who knows it of the 
Unseen part of man ? The Unseen is the real man. It 
is the Unseen that thinks, wills, loves, and enjoys. It is 



THINGS PEBISH, LAWS ARE IMMUTABLE. 100 

the Unseen that has strewed the world with the monu- 
ments of human power, and written human history in 
lood and glory. It is written, ." No man hath seen God 
at any time." It may be written also, " No man hath seen 
man at any time." Wh"» hath seen the Unseen man? 
Flesh and blood are not n.an. Bone and muscles are not. 
Brain and nerves are not man. These are only the instru- 
ments he uses in this life to effect material objects. But 
the instruments are not the uses. The real man is back of 
them, behind them, Unseen. The fact that the instruments 
break and decay, is not a proof that the user will. When 
they are gone he may have other instruments — better, more 
lasting. Who shall show that man, the real man, the 
reason, the love, and the will, will die ? Why is it that 
we stop at the Seen — the sensuous 1 Does not the Un- 
seen within us remind us of unseen realities in every 
thing ? The gem, the flower, and the bow are passing 
beauties which flash on our sight ; but tbey are but three 
bright words, hieroglyphics, written by invisible powers, 
which ought to convey to our minds lessons of wisdom 
concerning the Unseen realm of nature. The gem, the 
flower, and the bow are short-lived, but not so the laws 
that made them. Those laws are Unseen, and doubtless 
eternal. We know they exist; who shall prove that they 
will cease ? Their visible productions tell us they exist. 
Did they not exist before their productions ? And will 
they not exist after 1 Their visible productions are tem- 
poral • they themselves are eternal. Other visible things 
are temporal also. The rock is an emblem of durability 



110 EMPIRES CHANGE. 

in our minds. Its mountain shaft strikes us like a petrified 
eternity. But it will pass away. The elements, with 
their busy fingers, are carrying away its particles. The 
little rain-drops pick up and run away with its flinty atoms. 
The lightnings, with their red hammers, cleave off its 
masses The winds gather up its poAvdered cement, and 
steal away unseen with their granitic burden. In a few 
hundred centuries the mountain is gone. But the ever- 
lasting laws of wind, and water, and chemical action 
remain. Their Unseen powers are fresh as in the morn- 
ing of youth. 

We sometimes think and speak of empires, nations, and 
institutions as enduring. And so they appear to us as we 
gaze at them for a moment. But they rise and fall like the 
dew of morning, by means of an Unseen power which lives 
through all their changes. They are the visible productions 
of invisible mind. That which produced them still lives, 
though they have ceased to exist, save in the memories 
of those who brought them into being. 

We talk about our gold as enduring, though it may take 
wings and flee away, may wear away by attrition, may 
dissolve in liquid, be converted into base alloy, or disap- 
pear in many ways ; but those Unseen forces which oper- 
ate upon it, those mysterious affinities and repulsions in 
the great laboratory of Jehovah, still exist, still operate 
unchanged, and will through time, and perhaps through 
eternity. And those human powers, which gathered, used, 
and loved that gold, still live, and will continue to live, 
" nameless and eternal th'ngs." We build monuments of 



DEGKEES OF MATEKIALITY. Ill 

Btone and iron, and brass, to tell the ages to come that we 
lived but we ourselves shall see them crumble, and rust, 
and molder away. Our visible bodies, which we are 
accustomed to regard as immutable till the hour of death, 
are scarcely less changeable than the clouds, though our 
minds which inhabit them remain the same things, con- 
scious of a continued and changeless identity, and, Ave are 
assured by Revelation, will continue that identity through 
the countless cycles of eternity. The stars, so beautiful 
on night's radiant brow, are subject to endless mutations, 
and science assures us that they will pass away, and 
appear in other forms, and as other worlds, subject always 
to the hidden forces that control their outward appearance. 
So it is ; nothing Seen is permanent. From the dust-atom 
to the world all is mutable. " Passing away" is the 
mournful farewell of the visible universe. 

But not so with the Unseen. All this mighty and end- 
less concatenation of events is produced by Unseen 
agencies. Back of all we see, lying in endless activity and 
permanency, are the moving forces of creation. The 
magnificent pageantry of visible things, from microscopic 
to telescopic wonders, splendid, powerful, enduring as it 
is, is all in abeyance to something hidden behind the cur- 
tains of sense, to the original and endless laws of the 
Unseen world. 

Nor does durability alone belong to the Unseen. Power 
resides there. It is not the outward but the inward man 
that holds the key of power. It is not the arm, but the 
will, that is strong. It is not the body, but the mind, that 



112 MINERAL KINGDOM — AIR: 

performs great deeds. Authority is not in tl'e great frame 
but in the great soul. The command that millions obey 
comes not from the Seen, but the Unseen man. Nor is 
this true respecting man only, but it is true respecting th 
universe. Through all material things the power tha 
moves them is Unseen. This is contrary to common 
appearance, but it is nevertheless true. A little attention 
will make it clear: 

Materiality has degrees running from the more to the 
less gross. It rises, as it were, strata above strata, from 
solid, inert, powerless earth, cognizable by all the senses, 
to that which rises to the very top of the sensorium, and 
borders close upon the precincts of spirituality. Solid 
earth, or the mineral kingdom, is at the bottom. This ad- 
dresses itself to all the senses, and is of itself perfectly 
powerless. When at rest it can not move ; when in mo- 
tion it can not stop. It is powerless upon all other sub- 
stances, save by the force of attraction, and that is an 
invisible power. 

The next sphere of visible substance above this is wa- 
ter. This is cognizable only by the two senses sight and 
touch, and only slightly so by these. Water is a far more 
effective agent of power -than solid matter. It often 
sweeps down its currents with tremendous energy, bearing 
before it the fairest productions of God and man. I 
bursts mountains asunder, upheaves the earth, carries the 
commerce of the world, and performs the labor of millions 
of artisans. 

One step above wate^ lies the ambient air, unseen, cop 



THE GASES — CALORIC. 113 

nizable only by the sense of touch, and this only to keen 
perception. It is almost wholly removed from the sensu- 
ous, yet it holds in its viewless grasp the storm-god's deso- 
lating weapons. How it plows the earth, rends the for 
est, rolls the ocean into tumbling hills, and shakes the 
n.oun tain's solid base ! 

Next above the air, in the ascending scale of material 
ity, are the gases, half spiritual agencies in appearance, 
holding in their unseen hands the elements of uncomputed 
power. Among these we may take steam for an illustra- 
tion. In this age of steam we know something of its 
force. The million engines it is driving are thundering in 
the ears of the world the strong evidences of its power. 
Steam is invisible ; the eye can not detect it. In its unseen 
state it is mightier than ten thousand giants. Ribs of rock 
can not hold it ; bands of steel it snaps like threads of gos- 
samer. It is a giant unchained and unchainable. But in 
using its power it becomes visible, and the moment it is 
visible it is powerless. It wastes its power in making 
itself seen. Above the gases comes that indefinable, ethe- 
rial, nondescript agent called caloric, more powerful than 
all below, holding material things subject to its mysterious 
and unseen agency. Mathematical science stands aghast 
in attempting to compute its power. Even the power of 
steam is the result of this ethereal principle. It holds ma- 
teriality at its will. It has power sufficient to reduce the 
material universe to a liquid ocean of white-hot lava. 

Above this, in nature's unseen and invisible laboratory 
are coiled up from sight the indefinable powers of chemi- 



114 CHEMICAL AFFINITY — ELECTRICITY. 

cal affinity, and how great, how mighty are they ! The 
earthquake's shock, the volcano's belching fire and thun- 
der and many of the most astounding phenomena in 
nature's vast workshop, are the results of this unseen 
power. From the particle to the world lies the realm of 
ts active agencies. The soda you drink, the soap you 
use, the medicine you take, the bread you eat, the lime 
and much of the material of which your houses are built, 
many of the most useful products, and beautiful and won- 
derful provisions and exhibitions of nature we enjoy at the 
hands of this viewless power. 

Ascending one step higher we meet attraction, operating 
with the power of a God through all the universe. It 
holds the drop of water and the swinging world in its un- 
seen hands. 

Next and last in the material scale, at the very top of 
the region of sense, we approach the mysterious and 
awful power of electricity. So far removed from the sen- 
suous it is, so subtile and so ethereal, that we can not but 
regard it as almost spiritual. We doubt not that it borders 
closely upon the spiritual world. Here the realms of 
matter and spirit nearly approach each other, if they do 
not meet. Who shall utter a voice that shall declare the 
extent and mightiness of the electrical agency 1 It is no 
doubt the secret spring of animal and vegetable life, the 
balance-wheel of creation, the secret wand by which 
mind, both finite and infinite, rules over the realms of 
matter. Electricity we can not see, feel, or taste. In its 
ordinary movements it is all beyond the region of sense, 



SILENCE OF TIIE UNSEEN FORCES. 115 

silent, still, and grand. At times, it is true, in some dis*. 
turbance of nature, it becomes visible, but the moment it 
does it loses its power. The moment we see the light- 
ning's flash its force is wasted ; its visible appearance is 
but the flash of its eye in death. Step, again, one flight 
more up, and we enter the realm of mind, altogether and 
always invisible. Eye hath never beheld it ; ear hath 
never heard it ; hand hath never touched it ; it is back of 
and above all the senses. But oh, how powerful! Ma- 
teriality is its servant. Mineral, water, air, and steam, 
caloric, chemical affinity, attraction, electricity, all do its 
bidding, perform its labor, obey its will. See these slaves 
of mind making the busy earth tremble and hum with the 
din of their wheels and engines. How true it is that mind 
is more powerful than all these ; and that power increases 
as we ascend from the material toward the spiritual, 
proving that all power resides in the Unseen. 

It may be well to remark that these unseen forces are 
altogether silent in the natural exercise of their undis- 
turbed power. Here, again, we are often led strangely 
astray by appearances. We see no power in the silent 
puttings forth of the bud and blossom, the still progress of 
the growing forest, the calm affinities and forces Which 
make the world teem with life, usefulness, and beauty, in 
the quiet and faithful shining of the bright old sun, and 
the noiseless tread of the worlds through the fields of 
ether. But let a meteor fly wildly through the skies, let a 
volcano uncase its caldron of fire to burn the earth and 
paint the heavens, let the cloud send out its white-hot 



116 AN ELOQUENT EXTRACT. 

bolts and seething flames, and we are startled and awe- 
struck in the presence of such powers. This is a false 
estimate. These are really only freaks of nature, disturb- 
ances in her forces, weaknesses which she exhibits some- 
times in moments of disorder. What is a flash of light- 
ning compared to that silent operation of the electric 
agency, which clothes the whole earth with vegetation, 
and fills it with the teeming myriads of living beings with 
which every continent, island, and element swarms. There 
is more power in developing a flower than a flash of light- 
ning. Man can produce the lightning, but he can not the 
flower. An eloquent writer says, " The prairies waving 
with wheat, and the forests studded with oaks, make no 
noise~; and the electricity which roars in the thunder- 
peal is not a tithe so powerful as that which sleeps in the 
light, and holds the cups of a drop of water in their liquid 
poise. The world's estimate of power gives greater pro- 
minence to that which upheaves and causes disorder. 
The eruption of a volcano, to almost all minds, symbolizes 
more strength and grandeur than the silent swing and 
radiance of a planet. If there could be some splendid 
confusion produced amid the serenity of the present uni 
versal order ; if some broad constellation should begin to- 
night, to play off from its lamps, volleys of Bengal lights, 
that should fall in showers of many-colored sparks and 
fiery serpents down the spaces of the heavens ; or if some 
blazing aril piratical comet should butt and jostle the 
whole outworks of a system, and rush like a celestial 
fire-ship, destroying order and kindling the calm fleets 



AN ELOQUENT EXTRACT. 117 

ftiat sail upon the infinite azure into a flame, how many 
thousands there are that would look up to the skies for 
the first time with wonder and awe, and exclaim inwardly, 
'Surely there is tb 3 finger of God!' They do not see 
any thing surprising or subduing in the punctual rise and 
steady setting of the sun, and its imperial and boundless 
bounty ; and yet there is fire enough in the sun to spurt 
any quantity of flaming and fantastic jets. It could fill the 
whole space between Mercury and Neptune with brilliant 
pyrotechnics and jubilee displays, such as children gaze 
at and clap their hands. But the great old sun is not self- 
ish, and has no French ambition for such tawdry glories. 
It reserves its fires, keeps them stored in its breast, spills 
over no sheets of flame from its huge caldron, but shoots 
still and steadily its clean white beams into the ether, that 
evoke flowers from the bosom of every globe, and paint 
the far-off satellites of Uranus with silver beauty." Thus 
silently sleep the unseen forces about us. So it is with 
mental powers. That which is showy and noisy is weak 
and childish, and expends its force in exploding. Noise 
has no power ; the thunder never kills. The spiritual 
force of mind is serenely calm and silently grand. New- 
ton, in the serenity of his study, gazing upon a rude dia- 
gram to read the invisible statute-book of God, is a more 
splendid symbol of power than a thousand brawling poll 
ticians or thundering religionists, startling the world with 
their humdrum eloquence. There is more strength of 
friendship in the silent clasp of the hand and the noiselcsa 
pressure of the lip than in the mrst burning words the 



118 THE UNSEEN IS ENDURING. 

tongue can utter. And there is often more religion . n the 
voiceless prayer of the heart and the deed of charily that 
no eye but God's can see, than in a thousand prayers and 
psalms that shake the sanctuary, and alms that stir the 
world to praise. Illustrated on every hand are the propo- 
sitions that durability and power belong to the Unseen, that 
that power is calm and silent in the exercise, of its natural 
missions. Have we not abundance of reason to believe 
that unseen tilings are more real, enduring, and powerful 
than the things which we behold? Do not the, hidden 
things in our hearts, and the secret forces coiled in every 
thing around us, tell us of the positive realities of those 
spiritual entities and relations which Christ has revealed 
as existing beneath or within the vail of materiality ? If 
so, why are we so material and sensuous in our opinions 
and lives 1 Wealth and glitter catch and hold our most 
earnest gaze. Sensuosities are the things we love. We 
spend our money and our labor for that which is not bread, 
and which satisfieth not. There is back of all this allur- 
ing, perishing sight-world a realm of beauty and harmony, 
infinite and eternal, in which our invisible powers of love 
and thought, of memory and faith, are to live for ever. 
The men we look on are but the masked beings which 
are to be real and present to us in other spheres. The 
living men we do not see. Wisdom admonishes us to look 
" within the vail ;" the object of our love and care is there. 
To live for sense is madness. To waste life on a man 
of straw or dust is folly ; to live a butterfly's life is fool- 
ishness ; to multiply sensual wants is to invite leeches to 



THE INVISIBLE SHOULD GOVERN THE VISIBLE. 119 

suck out our blood ; to labor for the visible in life is to 
sow and reap not. The flower of human beauty and the 
wheat of human harvest are unseen. In the realm of 
mind, when Reason is king and Love is queen, we should 
find the objects of life. To discipline and develop the 
children of the spirit, the immortal powers of our inmost 
being, is the true end of life. Not for the Seen, but the 
Unseen, should Ave labor, think, and hope. The visible 
world should be our field, and its garniture and all therein 
should be our implements. Sense should administer to 
soul ; matter pay court to mind ; time serve eternity ; the 
Seen augment the glory of the Unseen. Over all that is 
sensuous should the spirit rule. Sublime is the beauty of 
a spirit enthroned in sense. How all the appetites, and 
passions, and lusts bow down in abeyance, and become 
beautiful in their garniture of humility and labors of use- 
fulness ! Every sense is a servant of the mind, a»d when 
held in subjection is beautifully useful. " He that ruleth 
qis own spirit is greater than he that taketh a t ity " 



CHAEACTEE AND REPUTATION. 

Character and Reputation Defined— The Ass in the Lion's Skin— Character ud 
Reputation Compared— Men do not Read Character well— A Science of Char- 
acter — General Correspondence between Character and Reputation — Reputa- 
tion follows Character— We should not meddle with our own Reputations— Il- 
lustrations— Every Man Forms his own Character— It is not Made in a Day- 
Character is the Fruit of Culture and Discipline— Where Characters are Made 
— Washington, Franklin, Burritt— Character the Standard of Progress— Asso- 
ciations — Influence of Collective Character — Examples. 

By Character I understand what a man is ; by Reputa- 
tion what he is thought to be. Falstaff was a coward ; 
but he wanted the reputation of a man of valor ; and if 
he had labored as hard for the character of bravery as he 
did for the reputation, he would have gained both. 

Men often possess one kind of character and another 
kind of reputation. Some men possess white characters 
and black reputations ; other men have black characters 
and white reputations. The ass sometimes wears the 
lion's skin, and when he doubles down his ears and keeps 
his mouth shut he gets the lion's reputation. But folding 
down his ears, sealing up his braying mouth, and covering 
up his donkey feet never so adroitly, will fail to dignify 
him with the lion's character. Philosophers in their day 



CHARACTER AND REPUTATION DEFINED. 121 

are often thought to be fools, and genius is often nick 
named " crackbrains." The most rigid and literal readers 
of nature among the ancients had the reputation of being 
visionary, while the most visionary of their senseless 
mythologists were resorted to as oracles of the all-per 
vading Divinity. The history of the Christian Church, 
written in the blood of martyred saints, records a thou- 
sand instances of Christian character dying at the stake 
of heretical reputation ; and the great Teacher, Founder, 
and Liver of the true religion died as a malefactor. 

Character and Reputation, then, are very far from being 
synonymous. Character relates to the man, Reputation 
to the world. Character is personal property, Reputation 
is public domain ; Character is capital in trade in a man's 
own business, Reputation is stock in public affairs which 
is managed by the community. Every man has a char- 
acter and reputation, and between them there may be a 
beautiful and truthful correspondence, or there may be a 
great difference. Between Character and Reputation 
there generally is a greater or less degree of correspond- 
ence. Few are the men so fortunate as to be estimated 
at their true value. The plodding day-laborer is often 
estimated at not more than forty shillings, when he is 
worth his weight in gold ten times over, and the half uf 
his value is not told then ; while the pompous, bloated, 
professional man or office-holder is put down at a hundred 
thousand pounds, when his real value js only a few far- 
things. 

Men are not always what they appear to be t° the un 
6 



122 THE ASS IN THE LION'S SKIN. 

practiced eye of the world. The reason wh\ men s rej 
utations differ so much from their characters, is because 
men are such poor readers of character and have such 
false standards of judgment. They learn to read every 
thing else — books, cattle, markets, merchants, nature, the 
signs of the times, but do not learn to read the language 
of Character. They have no literature elucidating the 
scenic beauties ' and varying proportions and relations of 
the man within. Nearly all men are Yankees in this re- 
spect — they guess out their neighbor's character. , And 
such guessing — it ought to make all honest Yankees blush ! 
The ass is guessed a lion, the goat a sheep, the dove a 
hawk, and the serpent a very clever fellow. Now the 
truth is, there is a science of Character which reveals to 
the proficient student the exact conditions of the inward 
man. There is a law by which the outward man is made 
a reflex or copy of the inward, by which the form and 
features are molded, by which the voice is keyed, the 
eye lighted, the countenance sketched, the head balanced, 
the bearing gauged, the step controlled, and every motion 
of every member of the body directed. There is a law 
which illuminates the outward man with the revelations 
of the soul, and sketches the character in the thousand 
minute expressions that fall in l'ving language as from 
many tongues, from the constant and varying movements 
of the human form which is instinct with Character 
The knowledge of this law is the science of Character. 
Whoever is a faithful interpreter of this science under- 
stands the characters of the men who pass before him 



CHARACTER AND REPUTATION COMPARED. 123 

And if all men were both theoretically and practically 
learned in this most beautiful and sublime of all sciences 
our characters and our reputations would correspond ; 
every man would be known as he is, estimated at his real 
value ; deception would lay down her gossamer mask ' 
the gaudy circumstances of life be assigned their propel 
places ; Character would become the standard of the 
man. 

But after all the ignorance of men in the language of 
Character, their native shrewdness will guess prettj 
closely at each other's qualities. If they are at first de 
ceived, they will shoot very near the mark after a while 
So it may be considered a truism, that men's reputation* 
generally correspond very nearly with their characters 
In some points they may be over-estimated, in others un 
dervalued ; so that after all most men stand just about at 
par in the market. They are valued at just about what 
they are worth in the long run. 

Although philosophers have been called fools and 
knaves good men, these are the exceptions rather than 
the general rule. If one man is over or undervalued, the 
thousand will be very nearly rightly estimated. Then 
the inference is, that if a man would have a good reputa- 
tion he must have a good character. The former is the 
natural growth of the latter. If Reputation is valuable, it 
is made so by the value which Character gives it. As 
the general rule is that Reputation depends on Character, 
its entire value is drawn from its origin. Hence Char- 
acter is the all-important, all valuable matter of consider 



124 A SCIENCE OF CHARACTER. 

ation Character, and not Reputation, should be the grand 
goal of human ambition. Character should be the inspir- 
ing glory that should burn on the mountain summit of 
uman hopes Character should be the mark of distinc 
ion, the epaulette, the scepter, the crown of power, and 
he robe of redemption, for which man should aspire 
This should be his honor, his religion, his life, and his 
heaven. Before his mind's eye should be placed the 
beautifid and divine proportions of a perfect Character, 
like that which crowned and consecrated the soul and life 
of Jesus. It should hang before his mind like a vision of 
celestial beauty, enchanting his love and stimulating his 
ambition. Before this ideal Character he should bow 
down in reverence. It should be to him a poem of di- 
vinest beauty, a harmony wrought into life, a divinity in 
its relative proportions and combined finish. This is the 
Christian's great advantage, that this ideal character of a 
perfect man is glittering on his sight and shining through 
his soul, the creative light of its beauty and power. 

If Character is attained, its corresponding Reputation 
will follow. Reputation is the consequent of Character. 
A great Character will insure a great Reputation, a mean 
Character a mean Reputation. For a season a false Rep- 
utation may be bolstered up ; but the Character in the 
end like truth, will make itself known and felt. Reputa- 
ion is important, vastly important ; but it derives its chief 
mportance from the inestimable nature of a true Charact- 
er. The world places a vast estimate upon Reputation. 
In this it is ".ght. But it errs in the way to secure it 



REPUTATION FOLLOWS CHARACTER. 125 

It seeks to make, build, buy, force, win, beg, earn a Rep 
utation — to get it honorably if it can, but to get it. Its 
practical motto is, " Any thing for a blazing reputation. 
This is wrong in principle and absurd in theory. A 
strong and enduring reputation can not be established 
without a character on wh-ch to build it. An attempt to 
create for oneself a good reputation without a character, 
would be like attempting to make moonshine without a 
moon or sunshine without a sun. The truth is, Reputa* 
tion can not be made. It comes of itself. It is the 
world's estimate of a character ; it is what men say of 
men. He who runs about to make himself a reputation, 
runs about sowing folly-seed to the wind. He will reap 
a harvest of lean shadows of nothing. 

One should have nothing to do with his own reputation. 
The more he attempts to look after it, the worse he will 
make it. If it is ever so pure, he pollutes it if he at- 
tempts to touch it. Reputation is always in the third 
person ; Character is in the first. 

Timothy Sanburn had the Reputation of being an 
honest man. Some villainous fellow circulated a lying 
report about him. Nobody believed it, and it did hi? 
Reputation no harm. But at length it got to his ears. 
He was wounded, and thought he must look after his 
reputation. So off he starts, fretting and foaming, to trace 
out the lying story. His earnest manner and phrensied 
tone cast suspicion upon himself. His neighbors began 
to think all was not right with nonest Tim, and a brood 
of flying whispers and suspicions were scared on to win^ 



126 EVERY MAN FORMS HIS OWN CHARACTER. 

by his attempt to mend up his reputation. There was a 
way to mend it. He should have let it alone, and forti- 
fied still stronger his character. A man must never touch 
lis own reputation. - 

Gilman Gordon was ambitious of fame. He fancied 
himself a great man, and he took great pains to convince 
the world of it. But the more he tried, the more every 
body thought he was a very small man. Had he gone to 
work with himself and formed a great character, the 
world would have taken good care to have honored him 
with a great reputation. But so it is, the very attempt to 
meddle with one's own reputation spoils it. 

But I do not mean, to say that a man shall not be 
jealous of his own Reputation. The merchant's, the law- 
yer's, the mechanic's, the day-laborer's Reputation is of 
immense value to each one. It is capital stock for each 
one's business. But each one must let it alone, or 
he will spoil it. But fortunate for us is it, and for our 
reputation, it is in our own hands after all. Our reputa- 
tion is the fragrance of our characters cast into the world. 
Our characters are our own. They bloom roses or thorn- 
flowers, as we will. Every man forms his own character. 
He forges it on the anvil of life. He does not make it in 
a moment, but he is making it all the time. Hence he 
makes his own reputation. Both Character and Reputa- 
tion, in this view, become his own. He is the author of 
both. And this is true of every man whose Reputation is 
just, or in keeping with his Character. 

Now it is a mighty and glorious truth, that every man ia 



CHARACTER IS THE FKUIT OF CULTURE. 127 

the author of his character. And the privilege of carving 
one's own statue, of giving an actual existence to the 
ideal of his highest thought of a man, of cultivating him- 
self into his noblest conception, is second to none enjoyed 
on earth or in heaven. But a noble character is not made 
in a moment, or with little effort. It is the meed of con- 
stant and well-directed labor ; it is the reward of industry 
in goodness ; of faithfulness in the moral stewardship. 
Our minds are given us, but our characters we make. 
Our mental powers must be cultivated. The full measure 
of all the powers necessary to make a man are no more a 
Character than a handful of seeds is an orchard of fruits. 
Plant the seeds and tend them well, and they will make 
an orchard. Cultivate the powers and harmonize them 
well, and they will make a noble Character. The germ 
is not the tree, the acorn is not the oak, neither is the 
mind a Character. God gives the mind ; man makes the 
Character. The mind is the garden ; the Character is 
the fruit ; the mind is the white page ; the character is 
the writing we put on it. The mind is the metallic plate ; 
the Character is our engraving thereon. The mind is the 
shop, the counting-room ; the Character is our profits on 
the trade. Large profits are made from quick sales and 
small per centage. So great characters are made by many 
little acts and efforts. A dollar is composed of a thousand 
mills ; so is a character of a thousand thoughts and acts 
The secret thoughts never expressed, the inward indul 
gences in imaginary wrong, the Tie never told for want of 
eouragc, the licentiousness never indulged in from fear ox 



128 WASHINGTON, FRANKLIN, BUKKITT. 

public rebuke, the irreverence of the heart, are just as 
effectual in staining the character as though the world 
knew all about them. A subtile thing is a character ; and 
a constant work is its formation. Whether it be good or 
bad, it has been long in its growth, and is the aggregate 
of millions of little mental acts. A good character is a 
precious thing, above rubies, gold, crowns, or kingdoms, 
and the work of making it is the noblest labor on earth or 
in heaven. 

Professions, callings, trades, places are small matters. 
They are only shops in which to make characters. That 
is the noblest which turns out the best characters. If the 
farm makes a Washington, honor be unto the farm. If 
the tallow-shop makes a Franklin, praise be to the tallow- 
shop. If the forge gives the world a Burritt, let the forge 
be a place of distinction. If the shoe-bench has en- 
throned poets, philanthropists, and statesmen, let it be a 
seat of dignity. No calling or station can honor a man. 
A man is above a profession, or throne, or a crown. A 
true character is the onty adornment a man can wear. 
If. he dotes on the bubbles of place and station, he lacks a 
true character. If place was a representative of Charac- 
ter, it would be vastly important. If the bar represented 
justice, the throne righteous authority, the pulpit religion, 
the counting-room honest trade, then would they demand 
our reverence. But they do not, or but poorly, represent 
them. They are trifles compared with character. Char 
acter is the source of peace or misery. It gladdens or 
glooms life, suns o^ chills the soul. It is the devil or the 



CHARACTER THE STANDARD OF PROGRESS. 129 

angel to pierce or crown the man. It is his heaven or 
hell, the cloud of wrath or the glory of joy that over- 
arches his life. 

Sum it then as we will, Character is the great desider- 
atum of human life. This truth, sublime in its simplicity 
and powerful in its beauty, is the highest lesson of 
religion, the first that youth should learn, the last that ag 
should forget. 

Reputation ! Let it go ; it will not be likely to get far 
from the Character. Watch well, make well the Charac- 
ter, and the world will see that the Reputation is faithfully 
established. The world loves to pet its good children 
and emblazon its good characters. 

The value of Character is the standard of human pro- 
gress. The individual, the community, the nation tells 
its standing, its advancement, its worth, its true wealth 
and glory in the eye of God by its estimation of Charac- 
ter. That man or nation who or which lightly esteems 
Character is low, groveling, and barbarous. Wherever 
Character is made a secondary object, sensualism and 
crime prevail. He who would prostitute Character to 
Reputation is base. He who lives for any thing less than 
Character is mean. He who enters upon any study, pur- 
suit, amusement, pleasure, habit, or course of life, without 
considering its effect upon his character, is not a trusty or 
an honest man. He whose modes of thought, states of 
feeling, every-day acts, common language, and whole out 
ward life, are not directed by a wise reference to their 
influence upor. his character, is a man always to be watch 
6* 



130 INFLUENCE OF COLLECTIVE OHAEACTEK. 

ed. Just as a man prizes his character, so is he. This 
is the true standard of a man. 

All these remarks are equally applicable to an associa 
tion of men. In an association the whole character is 
made up of all the parts, or the characters of the individ 
uals. They are all thrown together, the black, white, red 
and mixed, and the resultant character is the alloyed com- 
pound. One liar will detract from the character of ten 
honest men, one drunkard will tinge with blue the char- 
acter of many sober men. Satan is always surrounded 
with blackness. 

Fifty men formed themselves into an association profess- 
edly for mutual benefit ; ten were drinkers ; thirty were 
indifferent; ten were abstemious. The two tens balanced 
each other, and the Character of the association stood 
indifferent to the great virtue of temperance. It being in 
a temperance community, this gave it a bad odor. The 
axiom of Christ was applied, "He that is not for us is 
against us," and so the Reputation of the association stood 
against temperance. 

Another association of a hundred men was formed, 
professedly a reform association. Twenty of its members 
were profane swearers ; nineteen were devoutly respect- 
ful toward God ; sixty were indifferent ; hence the Char- 
cter of the association stood in favor of profanity, which 
in a religious community gave it an unlovely and grovel 
ling reputation, and utterly destroyed its influences. 
Other instances might be named to show that the Charac 
ter of an association is made up of the united character 



EXAMPLES. 131 

of aii its members. Some suppose it is the name, pro- 
fession, or object of a society that gives it character. 
But this is not true any more than of an individual. Pro- 
fession is a shallow vail, and is good only as it is sup- 
ported by a corresponding Character. If a society would 
have a good Reputation, it must have a good Character ; 
and its Character must not be professional or superficial, 
but based in the characters of its members. No man can 
be a good member of a good association and a bad man ; 
for however much he may labor for the good of the asso- 
ciation in its peculiar work, his character is a dead weight 
on his labors, and the reputation he will give the associa- 
tion will correspond with the reputation he bears in the 
community. Hence every association, like every individ- 
ual, must stand upon, and be measured and estimated by, 
its Character. Character is, then, the " sine qua non" of 
human existence, of moral intelligence. It is that which 
wins human confidence, awakens angelic love, and secures 
the smile of the All-Father. 



KNOWLEDGE AND CULTURE. 

An Old Adago Controverted — Newton and Galvani — A Mere Knowledge cf 
Facts does not confer Power — A Higher Knowledge Necessary — Knowledge ia 
not Culture — Mental Gormandizing— "We Bead Much and Think Little— A Few 
Think for the Many— Knowledge chiefly Valuable as a Means of Culture- 
Knowledge easy of Attainment— Culture Difficult— Memory— Thinking neces- 
sary to Development — Responsibility — We are What we Make Ourselves — 
Means of Culture— Intellect and' Conscience— The Mind, like the Body, is 
Developed by Exercise— Labor and Perseverance. 

Knowledge and Culture are two objects of permanent 
interest; but they are very far from being of equal 
interest. They are to each other as means and end. 
Knowledge of itself and in itself considered is not of such 
inestimable value as many have supposed. It has been 
said that " Knowledge is power," but this is not strictly 
true. Many men of vast knowledge possess but little 
power ; while other men possessing far less knowledge 
hold the scepter of a tremendous domination. One may 
know all the facts in the universe, and not be able to apply 
them so as to evoke their power and multiply sublime influ 
ences till his power shall be as universal as his knowledge 
Another may know a few facts, and so understand their 
multitudinous uses, and have his own soul so wrought 



MERE KNOWLEDGE CONFERS NO TOWEK. 133 

upon by their rich meanings that he may possess a varied 
and resistless power. 

One fact, and that a simple and common one, led out 
the mind of Newton to its sublime discoveries. One acci- 
dental fact stirred Galvani to the study of the mysterious 
and subtile agent that takes his name, and opened the way 
to the magnificent conclusions of that most stupendous 
and brilliant of the physical sciences. These facts known 
to other minds might have been as though not known. 
All antiquity had known that an apple loosened from its 
parent stem would fall to the ground with a force propor- 
tionate to its quantity of matter. And yet this is the fact 
that revealed the principle by which the worlds move in 
their march of eternal glory, and the universe is hung 
along the infinite spaces of immensity. All antiquity had 
known that a piece of glass or amber rubbed with the dry 
hand or a piece of silk would attract light substances fo« 
a moment, and then repel them. And yet this fact was 
the opening door to the field of electrical discoveries. 
The same facts in uncultured minds had produced nothing. 
When they fell upon soil where thoughts were taught to 
grow, they were good seed, and sprung up and bore glo- 
rious fruit. Certainly it is not Knowledge simply that 
confers power, or is useful to man. 

Knowledge is an acquaintance with facts. I may 
know that the trade-wind? blow steadily from west to 
east ; that the heated air in the equatorial regions rise 
and spreads out north and south, and that the cold air comes 
in to supply its place, and still be little acquainted with the 



134 MERE KNOWLEDGE CONFERS NO POWER. 

uses of these facts, and have little ability to read in all this 
the splendid plan of Divine Wisdom for heating, ventilating 
and tempering the house of mortal men, for carrying the 
heated air north and the cold air south in our latitude, and 
bearing in its invisible grasp the vaporous burdens that fall 
n mist and gentle rain and washing shower all over the 
earth, to keep it clean and pure and make it nutritious. I 
may know that the ocean is salt without being able to read 
in this fact the benevolent uses of its saltness, that the 
greater saltness of the equatorial regions, occasioned by 
the greater evaporation in that hot climate, causes the sur- 
face waters to settle to the bottom by their great heavi- 
ness, so the surface waters from the poles may come in, 
while the bottom waters are driven toward the poles, 
causing counter currents in the ocean similar to those in 
the air, thus keeping pure the waters and equalizing the 
temperature of the earth. I may know the fact that the 
highest mountains of the earth are in the torrid zone, 
without understanding therefrom their causes and uses. 
The knowledge of the fact of their existence will not in- 
form me that they are eternal ice-houses, reared there by 
the Almighty Hand, by causes which lie beneath the tor- 
rid girdle, to moderate the heat and irrigate the land of 
that sunburned clime. Then, again, I may know the 
physical causes and uses of all these facts, and not be 
able to glean therefrom their spiritual uses in developing 
within myself that world of wisdom and virtue which 
ought to exist in every mind. I may know my neighbors, 
their characters and habits, without comprehending the 



KNOWLEDGE IS NOT CULTUKE. 135 

various relations of mind to mind, man to man, a' mar to 
God. I may know a multitude of great men, without 
comprehending the secret of their greatness. I may 
know the different races, nations, and tribes of men, their 
histories, characters, and habits, and not learn from them 
all the value of a human soul, nor the way to make it 
what it may be in power and glory. It is not simple 
Knowledge that confers power or dignity upon a man. 

There are men who can repeat half the history of the 
world, and yet have reaped but little benefit from their 
knowledge, have not made it the substratum of mental 
power, nor the means of culture or development. There 
are men who can repeat half the Bible, and yet are not 
theologians, nor religionists, nor even moralists or men 
of respectable parts. There are men who are learned in 
the history and letter of the laws, both common and stat- 
ute, and yet are not jurists, nor respectable at the bar, nor 
yet as counsel. There are men who have learned the 
whole of a college course, and come out graced with a 
diploma and all the essential facts of a college education, 
and yet, in the graphic language of the world, " are born 
fools." They have got knowledge, but not culture. The 
minds of all such men are like dyspeptic stomachs ; they 
do not 'igest the food that is put into them ; they do not 
extract the nutriment of knowledge ; they do not grow by 
what they know ; neither power of thought nor strength 
of conception is increased by their accumulation of facts 
Knowledge is the mind's proper food ; but it is as often ill 
digested as is the food of the body. We overload both our 



136 WE READ MUCH AND THINK LITTLE. 

bodies and our minds, and give them but little exercise , 
and both suffer by the operation. We ar-e rearing a pam 
pered race of people ; soul and body are pampered alike. 
Intemperance is the crying evil of our time. It consists 
chiefly in the want of harmony between the use of food 
and drink and exercise. We eat and drink, and lounge 
and sleep. Luxury makes us stupid and effeminate. We 
have not the stalwart arms and vigorous bodies that we 
ought to possess with our unparalleled physical advantages. 
The same general fact is true mentally. Ours is an. age 
of mental luxury. Knowledge hangs on every bough, 
and blossoms in every flower. We gather as we go. 
Books multiply upon us like the sheaves of autumn ; 
we devour them and cry for more. We gormandize our 
mental dishes. Huge volumes that cost an age of thought, 
a lifetime of brain-sweat and soul-growth, are consumed 
as a few days' feast. We load our minds as epicures do 
their bodies, and make them equally effeminate. 

Knowledge is' not the most important thing. What is 
food to a dyspeptic ? what is knowledge to a mental epi- 
cure ? We read too much for our thinking ; we know too 
much for our wisdom ; we explore more than we put to 
use ? we plow more than we sow ; we gather more than 
we consume. We are a generation of mental gormand- 
izers. We luxuriate on knowledge ; we bloat with the 
richest facts of history and science ; we read without 
reason ; we follow our masters without thought ; we have 
many readers, but few thinkers ; many pearl-gatherers 
but fe\» pearl-wearers ; many men of knowledge, but few 



A FEW TIIINK FOR THE MANY. 137 

men of culture. Our thinkers rise upon us .ike new 
stars, a few in a century. The multitude run after them, 
and, like Lazarus, eat the crumbs that fall from their table. 
They follow them by instinct ; they adopt their theories 
and accept their thoughts at sight. Calvin rose and 
thought. What a multitude swallowed his hard, rocky 
thoughts, as though they were digestible mental food! 
Wesley rose, and another multitude followed him, much 
as Mohammedans followed their prophet. Swedenborg 
rose in the North, and straightway a cloud of witnesses 
appeared about him to testify to all he wrote. Davis 
came above the horizon, and lo ! an army follows in his 
train. So it is ; men swallow whole what they eat, 
wheat or chaff, meat or bone, nut or shell. They do not 
masticate their mental food ; they do not examine the 
facts they learn ; they do not digest their knowledge. If 
they did we should not have schools of men, sects, part- 
ies, but one grand lyceum of individual thinkers ; every 
one making his own use of his knowledge, forming his 
own conclusions, and working out his own kind and de- 
gree of culture. We read enough to have a generation 
of philosophers. 

The masses of our people possess more knowledge 
than did Confucius, Plato, or Socrates. The Roman Sen- 
ate did not know so much as so many schoolboys in our 
day. Very limited was their knowledge of history, sci 
ence, or philosophy. Yet they were great men, of vast 
power, and rich culture. Their little knowledge was put 
to its best use. Every fact was pressed into constan 



138 KNOWLEDGE EAST OF ATTAINMENT. 

service, and its uses and meanings were all studied till 
it became a light in their minds, imparting strength and 
beauty. 

Knowledge is chiefly valuable as a means of Culture. 
So far as it administers to this it does good. When it 
fails to do this it often does injury. In the hands of 
wicked and designing men, it is often an evil, or used for 
evil purposes. The men whose paths have been like 
simoon blasts among their fellow-men, have had great 
possessions of knowledge. 

In our day Knowledge is easy of attainment. Every 
newspaper teems with information ; books, rich in varied 
knowledge, are multiplied on the people's shelves. An 
hour a day devoted to the attainment of information for a 
few years, gives a pleasant daily repast, and will store a 
mind with a wealth of knowledge. The people are 
pressed with teachers. Every science has its professors 
and lecturers, its amateurs and masters, urging it upon the 
popular attention. When knowledge is so easily attain- 
ed, there is great danger of people's minds becoming like 
huge lumber-rooms, where every thing is stowed away in 
glorious confusion. 

Men will read as they eat, for the pleasure of gorging. 
There is a natural appetite for Knowledge in the human 
mind. That appetite must be gratified in wisdom, and 
even in moderation, or it is in danger of leading to men 
tal intemperance. There are bookworms by the hundred 
in our world, who read much and think little. To me 
Ihe danger of our age is not so much in over-reading as 



CULTURE DIFFICULT. 139 

in under-thinking ; not so much in too much Knowledge 
as in too little Culture 

Ours is a galloping age, and the road up the old steps 
of Knowledge, which was once so difficult of access and 
travel, is now made gently inclining and pleasant, along 
which men can ride in their easy-chairs, inhaling the 
fragrance and basking in the beauty of the ascending 
highway. And our people seem to think Culture may be 
obtained as easily and quickly as Knowledge. But the 
truth is, it takes an oak about as long to grow now as it 
did a hundred years ago, and practical farmers have found 
that corn and cabbage will not grow much sooner. The 
same holds true of children and youth. It is hard mak- 
ing a man out of a boy under twenty-five years of the 
best Culture, or a woman out of a girl in less than twenty- 
three years. And if the Culture is bad it takes much 
longer. Experience has taught that the blacksmith's arm 
requires as much time to enlarge and strengthen now as 
years ago, and must strike as many blows. And it is 
doubtful whether a mind can acquire strength and culture 
with less thinking now than a century ago. ^Thought is 
the grand instrument of Culture. 

Knowledge has sometimes a tendency to awaken 
thought and sometimes to stifle it. Bookworms are often 
very small thinkers. Most people imagine that a reten- 
tive memory is indispensable to a great mind and great 
Culture. Sad mistake. A retentive memory is a grand 
knowledge-^ox, but quite often stands in the way of Cul- 
ture And for this reason — the mind that remembers 



MO MEMORY. 

every thing it hears, learns, or reads, hai its learning 
always at hand, and finds it easier to use oilier people's 
thoughts than to elaborate thoughts of its own. He who 
has his food always cooked to his taste, seldom learns 
how to cook. The child whose parents furnish all the 
supplies for its wants at the mere asking, seldom learns 
to supply itself. Necessity is the mother of invention 
The retentive memory never invents, but uses the sup- 
plies it has on hand, and always using these it never 
learns how to think. It becomes a parrot, repeating 
everywhere other people's sayings and sentiments. It is 
easier to repeat than to think new thoughts. It is easier 
to use tools at hand than to make new ones, and often 
pleasanter when the tools at hand are better than we can 
make. But using them does not give us the ability to 
make them. A retentive memory always has on hand, 
in its youth especially, better thoughts of others than its 
possessor can originate. Who, then, will object to its 
using them ? But to use them is to put its own powers 
of thought in the easy-chair, and rock a lullaby to them. 
So it is generally with very retentive minds. Other 
people do their thinking, and hence they get none of the 
real benefits of thinking. As well may one eat another's 
dinner as do another's thinking. No man can be wise or 
great without hard thinking ; no man can be well culti- 
vated without systematic thinking. It is thinking that 
makes the man. To think is to develop ; to think "sys 
tematically is to cultivate. A parrot does not think ; a 
repeater of other men's thoughts does not think ; a mem 



RESPONSIBILITY. 141 

ory that is the grand store-room of all knowledge does 
not think ; books do not think ; knowledge does not 
think. No man can think by proxy to do himself any 
good. Thinking is like loving or eating, every man must 
do it for himself to get the benefit of it. Every man is a 
separate intelligence, and must use the same means fo. 
his development and culture that he would if there wei 
no other intelligence known to him. 

Men may assist each other in Culture, but each muot 
cultivate himself after all. Aids are all about us, but the 
power and the work are within us. Knowledge is one 
of the aids, and a great one, and if rightly used is of in- 
estimable benefit. But it must be used with wisdom. 
The primary law of manhood and culture is that each 
man must make himself. Man is mentally responsible. 
Responsibility is at the bottom of our being. No man 
can escape it. The object of it is human development 
and culture. The most important fact for us to know 
connected with our being is the fact of responsibility — 
thorough, inborn, God-given responsibility. Its counter 
fact, scarcely less important, is that Culture is the end of 
creature existence. Man was made to grow, and not to 
stand still ; to progress, not to remain " in statu quo ;" to 
ascend to heaven, not to stay in the earth. And he was 
made to grow, too, by his cwn exertions. The ladder on 
which angels go up is the one on which he must go up, 
"f he goes at all. His progress is in his own feet, or, 
rather, brains ; his powers of mind are his talents, and 
for their use he is responsible to the Giver. " Thou 



142 WE AKE tVHAT WE MAE!E 0UKSELVE8. 

oughtest, therefore, to have put my money to the ex 
changer's, and then at my coining I should have received 
mine own with usury," expresses the great obligation of 
humanity. His money is our minds. The exchangers 
are the operations of those minds which produce thought* 
and emotions. The usury is the Culture received by 
these operations. Turn it as we may, this is the grand, 
universal human obligation. It pertains to the whole 
mind. It is not only moral, but social and intellectual. 
Human life is a school, the spirit-world its college de- 
partment. Men are, and are to be, what they make them- 
selves ; are to enjoy what they possess ; to grow in the 
ratio of their wisely-directed endeavors ; to shine by the 
light that is in them, as tapers, stars, or suns. This is 
the law. Men ought to know it. By this law the path 
of human destiny is glorious beyond conception. It rises 
slowly and securely along the way of life, ascends and 
still ascends among the hills of increasing thought and 
wisdom, mounting from burning height to blazing ones 
above, up, on, increasing still, ever grander, brighter, sub- 
limer in eternal progress. It rises in proportion to hu- 
man endeavor. Some minds, like the skylark, seem to 
go up in circling gyrations, singing, shining as they go on 
rapid wing, with steady eye and aspiring heart, fixed, as 
it were entranced in the ascending thought. Sunny, 
happy, genial minds are they, absorbed in just views and 
warmed with holy aspirings for spiritual Culture. 

Every thing along life's journey is or may be the means 
»f Culture. Books ma/ be found in running brooks 



INTELLECT AND CONSCIENCE. 143 

sermons in stones, and good in every thing. He who 
studies will grow ; and one may study everywhere. 
The farm, the shop, the counting-room, the kitchen o 
drawing-room may be a place of study. Wherever min 
is engaged in the pursuit of good, wherever its active en 
ergies are earnestly applied to produce a supply for hu 
man wants ; wherever it strives to draw instruction from 
the wells of knowledge ; wherever it is producing thought, 
exerting its powers in their legitimate and lawful spheres 
of action, there it is being cultivated. 

The rapidest Culture is»in originating thought. The 
profoundest and truest thinker possesses the most culti- 
vated intellect. The ripest scholar is really the richest 
thinker ; the moralist is a cultured man. To conform to 
the moral law, to bring the strong will to obedience, the 
obdurate heart to submission, to subdue the passions to 
the spirit of humility, to hold in check the impulses, and 
put the whole turbulent family of the soul under the reign 
of right, is the highest evidence of moral Culture. A 
true moral Culture requires a corresponding intellectual 
Culture. The intellect measures and sounds moral prin- 
ciples ; conscience adopts them as the standard of right. 
Thus the two become mutual co-workers in Culture. 

The socialist is a cultivated man. To bring the affec 
tions into harmonious action ; to direct them to their 
proper objects ; to so order them that one shall not op- 
ose the other, and that all shall have their due exercise, 
.s indeed a beautiful evidence of Culture ; and when the 
affections thus work in faithful zeal and fervor, their Cul- 



144: THE MIND IS DEVELOPED BY EXERCISE.' 

ture is rapid and their influence chaste and happy. f« 
this wise development of the affections, the intellect de- 
velops the philosophy of their government, and the moral 
sense pronounces upon its righteousness, so that a general 
Culture proceeds from a wise activity of the social na 
ture. Activity is the great law of Culture. 

The mind grows as does the muscle, by its use 
Knowledge cultivates only so far as it uses the mind in 
its attainment. Where Knowledge is gained by experi- 
ence, by close research, or hard study, it is the great and 
most efficient means of CuMfcire. But where it comes 
.easily, as it were, of its own accord, it Cultivates but lit- 
tle. It is often the case that those who acquire Knowl- 
edge easiest, get the least of Culture in the study of 
life, and make but small men ; while the plodding stu- 
dents, and those duller of comprehension, rise to great 
height and strength of mental power. The reason lies 
chiefly in the fact, that the former acquire Knowledge so 
readily that it affords them but little Cultivation, while 
the latter grow strong by every new thought, so great is 
their struggle to get it. A quick and easy power of per- 
ception and comprehension, though capable of everv 
thing, not unfrequently hinders mental growth and culture, 
something as does a retentive memory. It can do great 
works in a short time, and so it works but little of the 
time. It thus prevents that continued action and steady 
labor which are necessary to great Culture. 

Labor is the right arm of Culture. Persevering effort 
makes mind Genius ofter sits down in the cool shade 



LABOR AND PERSEVERANCE. 145 

to dally with itself, while labor plods steadily onward, 
acquiring strength with each blow till it too can stride 
onward, and with masterly speed and giant strength it 
leaves its weak companion far behind in the race of life. 
All youth should learn this truth, and learn to believe 
that they may be what they wish to be, if they will wise- 
ly spend the labor and time necessary to the attainmeni 
of the end. Labor and time are the elements of Culture. 
When life is filled with wise labor, both physical and 
mental, the soul departs enriched with a glorious Culture, 
as a preparatory step to a sfc.ll more glorious Culture 
above. 

7 



THI ACTUAL AND THE POSSIBLE 

The At., n and the Oak— The Possible of the Potato— The Seed and the ] 
Newt; n and the Apple— The Steam Engine— Priessnitz and the Water-* 
The Pilgrim Fathers— The Actual and Possible of Christianity— The Actual 
may be Known, the Possible can not be Computed — "The Child of Destiny" — 
• The Possibilities of Maternity— Hereditary Descent— Education— The Possible 
of Childhood, Youth, and Manhood— We have too Little Faith in the Possible 
— We Fail to Reach the Attainable — No Rest short of That— Men are Un- 
conscious of their Highest Capacities— Knowledge and Culture Within the 
Reach of All— Eternal Progress. 

The Actual is what exists, what is. The Possible is 
what may be. The acorn, looked upon as the Actual, is 
only an acorn, with its shell and meat ; a squirrel's din- 
ner ; the body of a child's top ; the fruit of the oak. 
But considered as the Possible, it is an oak, with huge 
trunk and massive arms, and umbrageous foliage, and 
showering fruit ; yea, more, it is a forest of oaks, a wil- 
derness of those venerable kings of the wild, stretching 
over a continent, crowning mountains, covering vales, 
affording a lair for a thousand beasts, a home for millions 
of birds, and ship-timber for the world 

The Possible of an acorn is no mean matter. We can 
not compute it. It might cover with proud old oaks all 
the land of the eaith; and if it could send its seed to 



THE SEED AND THE PLANT. 147 

other wcrlds of congenial clime and soil, it might adorn 
them with its children, even till the universe was clothed 
all over, and every world had had its soil enriched with 
a thousand harvests of autumn leaves, and entombed w ithin 
itself generation after generation of oaken boles. 

What possibilities lie enfolded in the actual little acorn ! 
It is instinct with life. It has within it the germ of an 
endless growth, if circumstances do not prevent it. It is 
a prophecy of future oaks, and forests of oaks in genera- 
tion after generation. Who reads this prophecy will look 
reverently on the acorn — the Adam ot a race. 

It is so of all seed. An Actual bushel of wheat is a 
Possible harvest, a ship-load of flour, a thousand ovens full 
of bread loaves, the staff of life to generations of men. 

The actual potato which Sir Walter Raleigh took into 
the British dominions in the sixteenth century, has proved 
that it possessed rich and vast possibilities. It has given 
life to a million of Irishmen, stayed full many a time the 
hand of famine, and blunted the edge of the sword of 
death. It has vitalized the Saxon blood and muscle, and 
contributed not a little to the wealth, power, and glory of 
England and young America. Sir Walter saw not the 
Possible of the Actual root he took home from mere curi- 
osity. 

Great possibilities lie coiled up in little actualities 
The world is full of secret springs ; we know not when 
we touch them ; we touch them every day. Every step 
is on an unseen spring. Every Actual seed is a Possible 
plant and succession of plants in an almost infinite ratio 



148 PEIESSNITZ AND THE WATEK-CURE. 

And what is not a seed ? An apple falls on Newton's 
head, and the accident proves the seed of a magnificent 
science which has been, and is, and will everlastingly be 
shedding its light and glory in a universe of minds 
That apple fell on a spring of thought ; and the recoil of 
that spring lifts a universe into glory. It was an Actua 
accident holding within itself the Possible culture, devel 
opment, and growing* light and reverence of countless 
millions of minds. A little seed was that apple-fall, but 
it embosomed magnificent possibilities. 

A* merry devotee of Bacchus drinking off bis flask of 
brandy threw it in reckless sport into the fire, containing 
a little liquor. Lying quietly in the coals for a few 
moments, it burst with a loud report. Wonder seized the 
reveler. A spring of thought was touched and the power 
of steam discovered. A strange, drunken seed to hold 
such glorious possibilities. Yet from that seed has grown 
the mighty engine that propels our commerce and drives 
our world of machinery. 

A German boy crushed his finger, and to quiet the ach- 
ing plunged it into a spring of cold water ; the finger 
healed marvelously well ; and now ten thousand men and 
women bathe every day in cold water, and as many babies 
laugh and jump in its liquid tides, while round the world 
are sung in verse and pronounced in oration the marvels 
of its healing and health-giving power. Who would have 
believed that such splashing, bathing, showering, douching, 
rubbing, sheet-wrappirg, cleansing, health-blooming possi- 
bilities were coiled up in the German boy's accident? 



ACTUAL AND POSSIBLE OF CHRISTIANITY. 149 

Not long since Robert Raikes formed a little class of 
poor children to teach them on Sunday. And now almost 
every church in Christendom has its Sunday-school, the 
nursery of early piety, the recruiting office of the army 
of the Cross, the promise of the Church, and the hope of 
the World — a little Actual with a rich Possibility. 

In the winter of 1620 there stood on the cold, bleak 
rock of Plymouth the little crew of the Mayflower. 
Viewed in its Actual aspect, it was a cheerless, pitiable 
sight. What sympathetic heart in the Old World would 
not have bled could it have seen that famished and wea- 
ried band of exiles as they climbed up that inhospitable 
shore, with the rolling ocean behind them which they 
could not recross, the wild, savage world before, and the 
cold winter gathering around them ? Yet could the glo- 
rious Possible of that sight have burst on any mind, those 
forlorn strangers would have been pronounced the most 
fortunate and happy of their kind. Not a king in Europe 
but would have changed places Avith them. 

1854 years ago Jesus preached his singular sermon, "Re- 
pent ; for the kingdom of heaven is' at hand" — that king- 
dom which he said was as a grain of mustard seed. Its 
Actual was the least of all kingdoms, the most unpromis- 
ing of all enterprises — a lone son of a mechanic, from a 
despised village, rejected of the elders, despised of all the 
wise and great. Its Possible no tongue can describe, no 
pen foreshow, no prophet announce, no vision cempre 
hend. It is to be the kingdom of all kingdoms, ihc con- 
summation of all good, the triumph of truth, the universal 



150 "the child of destiny." 

reign of right, the hallowed home of eternal love and 
peace. 

The Actual and the Possible of things are wide apart. 
They bear not the faintest resemblance to each other. 
The prophecies that lie hid in the Actual no man may 
read ; and when read, no man may wisely deny them. 
It is not safe to say what may not be. It is wiser rather 
to reverently conclude that all things are Possible with 
God. What he will bring forth conservative man may not 
predict. 

What Possibilities are in a drop of water, a magnet, an 
accident, a word, a truth, an event, a life, a soul, no man 
knoweth. The future is hid. The Possible is God's se- 
cret. The Actual is all we may know at the time of its 
existence. The history of the outcomings of past Actual- 
ities should teach us to have a reverent faith in all things, 
to expect much of little, to look for power out of weak- 
ness, wisdom out of folly, holiness out of sin, glory out of 
darkness, and death out of life. If history teaches us any 
thing, it is to be believing, hoping, to have a reverent look- 
ing for something great and good. 

There is a fearful danger hanging over many Actuali- 
ties. Events that seem happy in the Actual are some- 
times pregnant with death. There is an outcome to every 
thing. What it is we may not know till it appears. Yet 
events are not a little in our hands. The Possible of our 
lives is somewhat within our control. Our Possible des- 
tiny is much of our own molding. " The child of destiny,* 
as Napoleon was called, was rather the child of his own 



THE POSSIBILITIES OF MATEKNITY. lOJ 

will. The Actual Napoleon, in childhood, could he hav« 
been seen as he was, would have predicted the Napoleon 
of manhood. 

Childhood is a prophecy of manhood ; just as an acorn 
is a prophecy of an oak. Parents hold their Possible 
child not a little at their will. The springs that move 
every power in his soul lie in them. They do much to 
mark his possibilities. Genius is made before birth. It 
is a bright parental gift. Mysteriously grand is the parent 
power. Who can tell how the mother's awakened soul, 
how a lofty mood of mind, a trance of love, a glow of faith, 
a vision of beauty, a resolute purpose, a flash of wit, may 
mark the mind of her embryotic child 1 What Possibili- 
ties sleep in the Actual power of maternity ! It is a grand 
but fearful power. Could Joan of Arc have brought forth 
a child from the fresh, high inspirings of her soul, in its 
period of power and beauty, Avho can tell what Possibili- 
ties would have slept in its young soul 1 We undervalue 
maternity. It. is the grandest gift of God to mortals. It 
embosoms richer Possibilities than any other. The short 
period of maternity has ages of Possibilities in it. Mothers 
should know it, and harmonize their souls for the exerciso 
of their marvelous gifts. The mother-mind should be ; 
model of what the child-mind should be. Thus her Actual 
mind will be the ripened seed of what its Possibilities 
will be. 

Estates are not all that go by hereditary descent to chil 
dren. The parents themselves go. They live again in 
their children. Not only their forms, complexions, and 



152 EDUCATION. 

features go to their children, but their powers and states 
of mi-nd, their mental conditions ; not, perhaps, in full 
force, but in part, at least. The parent is the A.ctual; 
the child is the Possible, growing legitimately from it 
Men know not yet what Possibilities lie in the paren 
power. 

After this parent power there comes the educationa 
power — the Archimedean lever by which the soul is 
moved. And here the Possible stretches far away from 
the Actual. The Actual man is small by the side of the 
Possible man. The Actual child but faintly resembles 
the Possible youth. Let the child's activities be brought 
into harmonious growth, let every power of body and 
thought be brought out to its Possible harmonious extent, 
and how fair would appear the youth. His body, round, 
fresh, healthy, and tair, would be beautiful to look upon — 
a tower of strength, a temple of mind. His intellect, 
quick, penetrating, strong, would read its way through the 
dark passages and problems of life, as a rich scholar reads 
a well-written book. His conscience, sensitive, active, 
vigorous, would lay hold of the right with joy, point duty's 
way with ease, and sanction righteous actions with a 
priestly benediction. His affections, rich as Venus' love, 
yet high and pure, would shed a sunshine through his 
oul, breathing spring in its beauty among all its powers. 
This, then, becoming the Actual youtl , the Possible man 
may be beauty and strength of body and mind harmonized 

Youth, as we have it, is a burning firebrand or a stupe 
6ed emptiness. It is all out of proportion, and put to- 



WE HAVE TOO LITTLE FAITH IN THE POSSIBLE. 153 

gether as a cobbler's work. It is flabby, coarse, weak, 
indecisive, puerile, mawkish, not half what it ought to be, 
and might be. Actual manhood is equally below its right 
and Possible standard. The high-breathing soul and the 
warm-beating heart are not in it — are not as they should 
be, and might be. Men rest in the Actual, and think they 
must. They aim not nor strive for the Possible. The 
parent accepts the Actual child that accidentally comes 
into his arms. He educates it the Actual youth of fortui- 
tous circumstances ; and the youth grows into Actual man- 
hood, as a potato grows, just as it happens to. In all this 
course the question of the Possible is perhaps never 
asked. The parent does not ask, " What may I make my 
child ?" The youth asks not, " What may I make my- 
self?" nor the man, " What may I become ?" We are all 
less than we ought to be. 

We have not sufficient confidence in the Possible. 
Poets, scholars, philosophers, statesmen, saints, good 
Samaritans, are all about us. Every school has its em- 
bryotic excellences, and might make a senate, a synod, or 
an academy of arts. The Actual blacksmith was the Pos- 
sible Elihu Burritt. He rested not in the Actual. His 
soul yearned toward the Possible. So does every one's 
soul. He obeyed the yearning. He listened to the God- 
voice within him. All do not so. There is a voice in 
every soul crying for the Possible. The sinner weeps 
when he. hears it calling him to be a saint. The sluggard 
is restless when it urges him to action. The ignorant is 
disquieted when from the hills of knowledge he hears the 
7* 



154 WE FAIL TO BEACH THE ATTAINABLE. 

cry, ' Come up." There is a great unrest all through the 
heart of humanity, because the spirit saith " Come," and 
men obey not. There is no peace to the undutiful. 

Every man feels that he is not what he ought to be, and 
might have been. He is not the master of his own inward 
domain. He rules not his own spirit. All along through 
life he has failed to hearken to the voice of the Possible. 
Little by little the false life has encroached upon the true. 
He has let slip many opportunities ; he has wasted many 
hours; he has yielded to many evil suggestions ; and 
amid the remembrances of all these failures, the voice still 
cries, " Come." And its cry is retributive. It is a partial 
punishment for neglect. Weak manhood trembles under 
it ; age weeps and warns youth, while youth hears the 
cry and the warning, and still pays folly its daily visits. 
But youth is not easy. It is desponding and anxious. It 
hears the voice of the Possible, and wants to go up, up to 
honor, to usefulness, to harmony, and happiness ; but it 
doubts its capacities, doubts its own constancy, and fears 
the labor necessary to the attainment of the goal of its 
aspirations. Little rest has youth ; little rest has human- 
ity. It never can rest till it heeds the voice of th© 
Possible. 

When a man feels that he is not what he ought to be, 
nd might be, he can not be at peace. A wasted life is a 
bitter death. And in proportion as it has been wasted, it 
has bitterness. Few men are so self-complacent as to 
elieve themselves all they ought to be. The spirit of 
good leaves not any soul. It may sometimes lie still; 



UNCONSCIOUSNESS OF OUR CAPACITIES. 155 

but it never leaves. And that spirit avenges in part the 
neglect and sinfulness of our lives. This human sea is 
ever rolling, beating against its shores, and chafing its 
bottom, and ever Avill while the Actual of human life is s 
much below its Possible. Our only hope is in this rest 
lessness.. If we found peace in this low life, we shoul 
not aspire to a higher ; if the false satisfied us, we shoul 
not desire the true ; if the Actual met our wants, we 
should not crave the Possible. But how low is the actual 
life of humanity ! Take our own civilized society. How 
few possess the current knowledge of our literature and 
sciences ! How few of our people possess any thing more 
than a scanty, stingy culture ! How few resist the open 
temptations to evil ! How few base firmly their lives on 
great principles, live by great moral truth, and walk in 
the ascending paths of wisdom ! How few are any thing 
more than a shadow of what they might be ! Some attain 
a noble intellectual strength, but this is often so marred 
and weakened by immoralities as to prove an evil rather 
than a blessing. It is the unrestrained power of the 
steam-engine. 

One cause of this low life is men's unconsciousness of 
their capacities. They know not the possibilities that 
are in them ; they dream not what they might be. When 
men do develop themselves, they astonish themselves 
more than any body else. Men often have less confidence 
in their own powers than others have in them. The 
majority of us are self-distrusting. We lack moral cour 
age and persistent energy. If we could reach our desires 



156 KNOWLEDGE WITHIN BEACH OF ALL. 

to-day we would do it ; but we tire at the thought of a 
year's labor, and are actually dismayed when a life of 
effort is contemplated. We are not hopeful enough. The 
Possible life does not stand bright enough before us. Our 
faculties need inspiring with brighter visions. 

We ought to believe that we can be what we wish to 
be. Our faith should be a mighty power within us. 
Doubt and fear we should throw to the winds. Not by 
what we are should we judge what we may be. Time 
and toil win all prizes. Is knowledge desired? A'life of 
study, of continued accumulation Avill lay up vast stores 
where moth and rust do not corrupt. All sciences will 
come and lay their treasures at the foot of the student. 
Their mines yield liberally to the searcher after their 
gold. Is mental culture an object of desire ? It is not 
difficult of attainment; it is no. recluse hid in some 
enchanted cave, to which unseen spirits lead the ambi- 
tious searcher. The wise, active, and energetic exercise 
of the mental powers will give it. Every youth, be he 
farmer or mechanic, rich or poor, a genius or a dull com- 
mon-sense stripling, may obtain both knowledge and 
culture. They are hid from none ; nor are they so very 
difficult of attainment. A few years of faithful effort will 
confer the boons. And glorious boons they are, revealing 
to their possessors the vast possibilities of their souls. Is 
virtue the coveted treasure 1 How ready of attainment! 
Everywhere in life may virtue be cultivated. Any virtus 
hat a man really desires, he may possess. The highest 
order of virtues are the Christian graces. They lie with- 



ETERNAL FR0GRB3S. . 157 

m the reach of all. Christ's life may be re-lived. The 
diamonds of his character may be set in every soul. The 
lifo of moral heroes, philanthropists, philosophers, and 
Christians may be re-lived by all of fair endowments 
The true life is not above the mass of men. The riches 
of the divine kingdom are open to all. Common men and 
women may possess them. They may adorn the mothers, 
and sisters, and wives, and daughters of us all. They 
may give dignity, grace, and strength to our men. The 
men in humble walks may rise in dignity and importance 
by the magic power they possess. 

Mind is a thing of progress. Use it, and it will grow 
forever. Exert it strongly and wisely, and it will soon 
stand among the sons of light, and ere long shine among 
the cherubim and seraphim. There is no limit to its 
knowledge, culture, virtue, growth, and progress. It is a 
deathless, immortal thing, instinct with Godlike capabil- 
ities. Its true life is angelic. Its false life is devilish. 
One urges up and onward, the other downward and 
backward. In every soul a light shineth, a voice crieth 
for the true life, for the mighty and glorious possibilities 
within it. The light should cheer up and onward the 
ascending spirit ; the voice should encourage it. The 
Actual of itself and its life should seem to it only as a 
seed of its possible attainments. The true life is in pro- 
gress. A day of no progress in good, is a day of false 
life. Every progressive moment is a moment of the life 
that never dies, the true, the immortal, the Godlike life. 



Sent prepaid by first post at prices annexed. 



TUiLIBHED BY 

SAMUEL R. WELLS, No. 389 BROADWAY. 

The following List embraces most of our Books, save private Medical Works con- 
tained in our " Special List," and those on PHONOGRAPHY, which, are given in 
separate Catalogues. For full Titles see Illustrated and Descriptive Catalogue, which 
may be had gratuitously on application personally, or by letter inclosing stamp. 



W0EES ON PBBBNOLOaT. 



How to Read Character ; a New 
Illustrated Hand-Book of Phrenology 
and Physiognomy, for Students and 
Examinees, with a Chart for recording 
the sizes of the different Organs of the 
Brain, etc. Paper $1 ; in muslin ... $1 25 

Annual of Phrenology and Physi- 
ognomy for 1STO. By S. R. Wells 25 

Annuals for 1865-6-7-8-9 and '70, 
in one volume, of over 300 pages with 300 

illustrative engravings. Paper $1 00 

Bound iu muslin 1 25 

American Phrenological Journal. 
A handsomely illustrated monthly. Ed- 
ited byB. R. Wells, a year $3 00 

Combe's Lectures on Phrenology. 
A complete course. In muslin $1 75 

Combe's Moral Philosophy ; or, the 
Duties of man. New Ed., revised and 
enlarged. By Geo. Combe $1 75 

Chart for Recording' Developments. 

A Synopsis for Phrenologists .... 10c. 

Constitution of Man. By Geo. Combe. 

Authorized Ed. Illustrations $1 75 

Complete "Works of Dr. GaU on 

Phrenology. 6 vols (very scarce) net.. $15 

Defence of Phrenology; Arguments 
and Testimony. By Boardman .... $1 50 

Domestic Life, Th.oug-h.ts on, its 
Concord and Discord. By N. Sizer..25c. 

Education Complete. Embracing Phy 

Biology, Animal and Mental, Self-Culture. 

and Memory; one vol $4 10 

Education, founded on the Nature 

of Man. By Dr. Spurzheim $1 50 

Illustrated Chart of Physiognomy. 

in map form for framing 25c'. 



"Wedlock, or the Eight Relations of the 
Sexes; who may, and who may not 
Marry, $1.50 ; extra gilt $2 00 

Memory and InteUectual Improve- 
ment; applied to Self-Education $1 50 

Mental Science, Lectures on, accord- 
ing to the Philosophy of Phrenology. 
By Rev. G. S. Weaver. Muslin... %1 50 

New Physiognomy, or, Signs of 
Character— As manifested through Tem- 
perament and external forms, and espe- 
cially in the Human Face Divine, with 
more than 1,000 illustrations. By S. R. 
"Wells, Editor Phrenological Journal. In 
one large volume, handsomely bound. 

In muslin $ 5 00 

Heavy calf, with marbled edges 8 00 

Turkey morocco, full gilt 10 00 

Phrenology Proved, Illustrated and 
Applied. Thirty-seventh edition. A 
standard work on the Science $1 75 

"Wells' New Descriptive Chart for 
the use of Examiners, in delineating 
character 25 

Phrenological Guide. Designed *»• 
the use of Students 26c 

Phrenological Bust, Designed espe- 
cially for Learners, showing the exact 
location of the Organs of the Brain fully 
developed. Price, including box for 
packing (not mailable,) $2 00 

Phrenological Specimens for So- 
cieties and Private Cabinets, 40 casts, net 
(not mailable) $35 00 

Self-Culture and Perfection of 
Character; muslin $1 50 

Self-Instructor in Phrenology and 

Physiology. Dlustrated. Paper 50c. 

The same in muslin 75c. 



HYlE@FA^HYs ©B, WATBR CURS. 



Children, their Hydropathic Management 
In Health and Disease. Dr. Shew...$l 75 

Cook Book, Hydropathic. "With New 
Recipes. Illustrated. By Dr. Trail, 1 60 

Diseases of the Throat and Lungs, 
including Diphtheria. By Dr. Trail . . 25c. 

Domestic Practice of Hydropathy, 

with 15 illustrations of important sub- 
jects. By E. Jolinson, M.D 2 00 

Family Physician, Hydropathic. 
By Dr. Shew, a large and valuable work 
for Home or Domestic Practice. Pro- 
fusely illustrated ..4 00 

Midwifery and the Diseases of Wo- 
men. A practical work. Shew 1 75 

Philosophy cf Water-Cure. By J. 
Balbirnie, M.D. For beginners 50c. 

Practice of Water-Cure. By Drs. 
Wilson and Gully 50c. 



Hydropathic Encyclopedia: illus- 
trated. A Complete System of Hydro- 
Sathy and Hygiene, embracing Anatomy, 
lustrated; Physiology of the Human 
Body ; Hygienic Agencies, and the Pres- 
ervation of Health ; Dietetics and Cook- 
ery ; Theory and Practice of Treatment ; 
Special Pathology and Hydro-Therapeu- 
tics, including the Nature, Cause, Symp- 
toms, and Treatment of all known 
Diseases : Application to Surgical Dis- 
eases and to Hydropathy, to Midwifery 
and the Nursery. With Three Hundred 
Engravings, and nearly One Thousand 
Pages, including a Glossary, Table of 
Contents, and Index, complete. By R. 

T. Trail, M.D 4 50 

Of all the numerous publications which 
have attained such a wide popularity, as 
issued by this House, perhaps none are 
more adapted to general utility than this 
rich, comprehensive, and well-arranged 
Encyclopedia.— .y. Y. Tribune. 

Water-Cure in Chronic Diseases; 
an exposition of the Caases, Progress, 
and Termination of Various Chronic 
Diseases. By Dr. J. M. Gully. An im- 
portant work 2 00 



WORKS OH PHYSIOLOGY. 



Alcoholic Controversy. A Review of 
the Westminster Review on the Physio 
logical Errors of Teetotalism 50c 

Anatomical and Physiological 

Plates. These Plates were arranged 
expressly for Lecturers on Health, Physi- 
ology, etc. By R. T. Trail; M.D. 

They are six in number, representing the 
normal position and life-size of all the 
internal viscera, magnified illustrations 
of the organs of the special senses, and 
a view of the principal nerves, arteries, 
veins, muscles, etc. For popular instruc- 
tion, for families, schools, and profes- 
sional reference, they will be found far 
superior to anything of the kind hereto- 
fore published, as they are more complete 
and perfeot in artistic design and finish. 
Price for the set, fully colored, backed 
and mounted on rollers. By express 
(not mailable) 20 00 

Combe's Physiology, applied ta the 
Improvement of Mental and Physical 
Education. Notes. Illustrated 1 75 



Digestion, Philosophy of. The Prin- 
ciples of Dietetics. By Dr. Combe, 50c. 



Family Gymnasium. With numerous 
illustrations; containing the most im- 
portant method of applying Gymnastic, 
Calisthenic, Kinesipathic, and Vocal ex- 
ercises to the development of the bodily 
organs, the invigoration of their func- 
tions, the preservation of health, and 
cure of diseases and deformities. By R. 
T. Trail, M.D 1 75 

Food and Diet, containing an Analysis 
of every kind of Food and Drink. By 
Dr. J. Pereira. Edited by Dr. Lee, 1 75 

Fruits and Farinacea the Proper 
Food of Man. With Notes and illustra- 
tions. By Dr. Trail. Muslin 175 

Hereditary Descent. Its Laws and 
Facts applied to Improvement 1 60 

Dafancy; or, the Physiological and Moral 
Management of Children. Dlustrated. 
By Dr. Combe. Muslin 150 

Movement-Cure. Embracing the His- 
tory and Philosoohy of this System of 
Medical Treatment. Illustrated. By G. 
H.Taylor, M.D 175 

Prevention and Cure of Consump- 
tion by the Swedish Movement-Cure. By 
David Wark, M.D 80e. 

Natural Laws of Man. By Dr. Spura- 
heim. A capital work. Muslin 75c. 



Philosophy of Sacred History, con- 
sidered in relation to Human Aliment 
and the Wines of Scripture. By Syl- 
vester Graham 3 50 

Physiology, Animal and Mental, 
applied to Health of Body and Power 
of Mind. Illustrated. Muslin 1 50 

The Story of a Stomach : an Egotism. 
By a Reformed Dyspeptic 75c. 

Sober and Temperate Life, with Notes 
and Illustrations by Louis Cornaro. . .50c. 

Tea and Coffee, their Physioal, Intellec- 
toa., and Moral effects. Alcott 25c. 



The Science of Human Life _ By Syl- 
vester Graham, M.D. With t? .Biogra- 
phical Sketch of the Anthor 3 50 

Teeth, their Structure, Disease and Man- 
agement, with Engravings "25c. 

Tobacco, its Physical, Intellectual and 
Moral Effects. By Alcott 25c. 

Special List. We have, in addition to 
the above, Private Medical Works and 
Treatises on subjects which, though not 
adapted to general circulation, are in- 
valuable to those who need them. This 
Special List will be sent on pre-paid 
application, or on receipt of stamp. 



IISOlLLAIIOni, 



j'a Fables. People's Pictorial 
Edition, beautifully illustrated 1 90 

Pope's Essay on Man. With Phreno 
logical Notes by S. B. Wells. Beautiful- 
ly illustrated. Gilt, bev. boards 1 00 

Aims and Aids for Girls and Young: 
Women. By Rev. G. S. Weaver. ..1 25 

Footprints of Life ; or, Faith and Na- 
ture reconciled. A Poem in three parts. 
By Philip Harvey, M.D. Part 1st- -The 
Body. Part 2d— The Seal. Part 8d— 
The Deity. Something new 1 '" 

Fruit Culture for the Million ; 
Hand-Book for the Cultivation and 
Management of Fruit Trees 1 00 

Benny. An Illustrated Poem. 
By Anaa Chambers Ketchum. Publish 
ed in elegant style of Enoch Arden. 1 50 

Home for All. The Gravel Wall, a New 
Cheap, and Superior Mode of Building. 
With Engravings 1 50 

Hopes aad Helps for the "5Toung 
of both Sexes. By Rev. G. S. Weaver. 
An excellent work. Muslin 1 50 

Life in the "West ; or, Stories of the 
Mississippi Valley. By N. C. Meeker, 
of the New York Tribune ...2 00 

Notes on Beauty, "Vigor and Devel- 
opment. Blustrated 12c. 

Oratory, Sacred and Secular; or, 
The Extemporaneous Speaker. With 
Sketches of the most Eminent Speakers 
of all Agss. By William Pittengor, 
Author of " Daring and Suffering." In- 
troduetion by Hon. John A. Bingham, 
and Appendix containing a " Chairman's 
Guide" for Conducting Public Meetings 
according to the best Parliamentary Mod- 
els. Tinted paper 1 50 



Man, in G-enesis and in Geology : 
or, the Biblical Account of Man's Crea- 
tion, tested by Scientific Theories of his 
Origin and Antiquity. By Joseph P. 
Thomson, D.D., LL.D. In one volume, 
12mo ... 1 00 

Saving- and "Wasting-; or, Domestic 
Economy. 111. By Solon Robinson, 1 50 

Temperance in Congress. Tec Min- 
ute Speeches in the House of Representa- 
tives on the First Meeting of ins Con- 
gressional Temperance Society 95c. 

Temperance Reformation- Its His- 
tory from the First Temperance Socie + y 
to the Adoption of the Maine Law. By 
Armstrong ,1 50 

The Christian Household. Embrac- 
ing the Christian Home— Husband, Wife, 
Father, Mother, Child, Brother and Sis- 
ter. By Rev. G. S. Weaver 1 00 

"Wedlock ; or, the Bight Relations 
of the Sexes— Disclosing the Laws 
of Conjugal Selection, and showing Who 
May and Who May Not Marry. A Scien- 
tific Treatise. By S. R. Wells. One 
vol., 12mo, 250 pages, plain muslin, 1 50 
The eame, in fancy gilt binding 2 00 

The Bight "Word in the Bight Place. 
A Pocket Dictionary of Synonyms, 
Technical Terms, Abreviations, Foreign 
Phrases, etc 75c. 

"Ways of Life. The Right Way and the 
Wrong Way. By Rev. G. S. Weaver. A 
capita! Work. Muslin 1 00 

Weaver's "Works for the Young. 
Comprising " Hopes and Helps,'- " Aims 
and Aids," and " Ways of Life," ... .8 00 



Agents, Booksellers, and others would do well to engage in the sale of these Works, 
in every State, County, Town, and Village throughout the country. They are not kept 
by Booksellers generally. The market is not supplied, and thousands miijfit U sold 
where they have never yet been introduced. For Wholesale Terms, and " Special List,'-' 
please tddiess, SAMUEL R.WELLS, 389 Broadway, New York, U.S. A. 




Tlie Study and Improve- 
ment of Man in ail his Relations is our object . 
Tlie Natural History of Man 

—including the Manners, Customs, Religions 
and Modes of Life in different Families, 
Tribes and Nations will be given. 

Physiology, the Laws of Life 
and Health, including Dietetics, Exercise, 
Sleep, Study, Bodily Growth, etc., will be 
presented on strictly Hygienic principles. 

Phrenology.— The Brain and its 



Physiognomy} or, "The Human 

Face Divine ."with " Signs of Character, and 
How to Read Them" scientifically. 

The Human Soul— Psychol- 
ogy. — Its Nature, Office and Condition in Life 
and Df.aJi ; Man's Spiritual State in the Here 
and in tlie Hereafter. Very interesting. 



Editox-. 



Biography.— In connection with, 
Portraits and Practical Delineations of Char- CS 
acter of oar most distinguished men. 

Marriage forms a part of the life of 
every well organized human being. The ele- 
ments of love are inborn. The objects of 
Ma.riage stated. All young people require 
instruction and direction in the selection of 
suitable life-companions. Phrenology throws 
light on the subject. Let us consult it. i 

The Choice of Pursuits.— 
How to select a pursuit to which a person is 
best adapted ; Law, Medicine, Divinity, In- 
vention ; Mechanics; Agricmture ; Manu- 
facturing ; Commerce, etc. " Let us put the 
right man in the right place." 

Miscellaneous. — Churohes, 



ship. Education, Training, and Treatment, 
given in the new vol. of The Phrenoloqical 

JOURNAL AND LIFE ILLUSTRATED. 



TERMS.-A New Volume, the 51st, commences with the July Number. 
Published monthly, in octavo form, at $3 a year in advance. Sample numbers 
sent by post, 30 cts. C'lnbs of Ten or more, $2 each per copy. Subscribe now. 



PLE/[SS-J* STRESS 

",; j SA MUEL M. WE LJLS, 

i"f IsTO. 389 33E,0-A.I3'W--A.-Z-, 

NEW YORK, IT. S. A. 









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